


Brave New World

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Maiden
Genre: Alternate Universe, Iron Maiden - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bruce had been on his own since age fourteen, getting by with a menial job and nothing better to do than drink, shoot pool, and chase girls.  Until by chance he meets an English musician who causes him to re-evaluate his life and who  changes the course of his life forever.





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of complete fiction set in an alternate era and place. I claim no rights to the persons named within and have nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for the persons the characters are based upon

SAN FRANCISCO - 1970's

"Spirit?!" Bruce snorted derisively. "What the fuck kind of name is Spirit?"  
"What the fuck kind of name is Bruce Bruce?" Paul laughed, lighting a cigarette. The two men were lounging against the wall in front of the pool hall where they and their friends spent most of their time. Though they didn't necessarily think of themselves as a "gang", the neighborhood shop owners considered them one because of their leather jackets and worn jeans as well as their apparent complete disregard for anything and everything outside of their own little circle. It was San Francisco and the area, in fact the whole local culture, was getting weirder by the day in the eyes of the established residents. Old Pete who owned the pool hall sometimes referred to them as a gang, calling them Samson, which was Paul's last name and also had an intimidating sound to it. And they did appear intimidating, the six or seven core members of the group, and people gave them a wide berth. People except for the young man with the long wavy blonde hair who had just strolled past them as though he hadn't a care in the world. Bruce had never seen him around before so he asked Paul about the sissy looking stranger with the guitar strapped across his back and was told he'd heard him called Spirit.  
"Fucking hippies!" Bruce muttered under his breath, but even as he said it he was watching the man walk down the block. Only a hippie would call himself Spirit, Bruce reasoned.  
"He plays at one of those coffee house places a couple times a week." Paul added. "He's English but his real name is something foreign sounding."  
'Great' Bruce thought sarcastically. 'Not only is the new guy in the neighborhood a hippie, he's a foreigner.' Nevertheless his eyes followed the slim figure in faded denims until he lost sight of him in the distance. He hit Paul on the arm gesturing back inside the building. "Come on, I need another beer."  
Others of their crowd had arrived by then and they proceeded to drink, play pool, and generally be as loud and boisterous as possible until Pete closed the place at midnight. They could have cowed Pete into letting them stay as long as they wanted, they all knew, but they also knew that if they pissed him off Pete could close the pool hall down and retire as he was constantly talking about doing and then they would have to find another place to hang out.

Both Bruce and Paul worked as mechanics at two nearby auto repair garages and the others held similar menial jobs. One or two may have been involved in more shady activities but no one wanted to know so no one asked too closely about it. Though Paul Samson was the oldest of them and so was thought of as the unofficial leader of their little group, everyone knew that Bruce was the one to go to whether you had a problem or just needed a good laugh. As long as they left the immediate neighborhood alone, people turned a blind eye. There were other things to worry about. The city seemed to be attracting more runaways and college dropouts by the day and drugs were a growing problem. Bruce was only twenty two but already he could look back to the simpler days when cruising around in souped-up old cars and riding stripped down motorcycles were the main pastimes and chasing girls the biggest goal in life. Not that he ever had to chase them too hard, in fact it seemed that a number of them chased him. He never questioned it himself, just taking the attention as his due but anyone else could have told him he drew girls like a magnet largely because of his straight brown hair which he wore unusually long and his compact, well muscled physique. The rest of his appeal was pure charisma. For a man who had never finished school he was bright, witty, and craved being the center of attention. 

Currently, though, Bruce had his sights set on a girl name Jill who was proving to be more of a challenge. Bruce was used to being able to score after just a date or two, Jill wanted to be courted and wooed. He could have moved on, he knew. There were plenty of fish in the sea. But he saw it as a personal challenge and it didn't help that John and Chris had taken to teasing him, saying he was losing his mojo and should start thinking of chucking it all and getting married. Bruce had absolutely no intention of doing that.

The following Friday was payday and Bruce decided to give it another go with Jill. She wasn't anything special aside from her blonde hair and big tits, and he decided that if he didn't at least get to second base that night he was finished with her. It went against his grain but he took her on the traditional date - a movie and a hamburger afterward at a nearby burger joint. She seemed to be warming up to him and didn't pull away when he sat with her on her side of the booth and casually lay a hand on her knee. Then she came up with the out-of-the-blue suggestion of going to see some live music.  
"I've always wanted to check out The Grind," she enthused, leaning into him and unconsciously brushing a breast across his arm. The Grind was one of the beatnik coffee houses that had been popular at least ten years before and had now turned into more of a hangout for those who didn't want to accept the fact that the hippie era had passed by. With an inward sigh Bruce agreed. It was only three blocks away so they walked, Bruce with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket but Jill looped her arm through his and clung close. 'Maybe I'm finally getting somewhere' he thought to himself. If going to this den of pot smokers and spaced out poets is what it took to get into her pants, he supposed he could go along with it for one night.

Being a Friday night, the basement club was jammed. Cigarette smoke filled the air and the faint scent of marijuana, something Bruce was quite familiar with, was mixed in. It was loud, and what passed for a stage was occupied by two young girls in mini skirts reciting alternating verses of some transcendental poem Bruce didn't even try to listen to. Neither of them looked past seventeen and they wore the long, straight hairstyles that were the fashion now. As soon as a couple stood to leave, Bruce let Jill drag him to the vacated table and they sat. Jill watched the two "poets" with rapt attention and seemed mesmerized by the bongo playing wild man with no sense of a beat that followed them. It was dawning on Bruce that Jill was one of those people who was drawn to anything edgy and daring and this explained to him why she was dating him, someone her respectable parents would consider a ruffian. He let his attention wander, glancing around at the hodgepodge of people around him, ignoring Jill gushing about how "cool" or "awesome" everything is. He was getting bored when suddenly the room grew hushed.  
Bruce looked back at the stage, glad to see the bongo player was gone. Instead, on a tall stool sat a young man with long, wavy honey gold hair bent over an acoustic guitar. It took Bruce a moment but he finally placed where he had seen this man before, it was the hippie he'd asked Paul about, the one he called Spirit. He was suddenly curious. Without glancing up, the young man began to play. He didn't sing, he played with his eyes closed most of the time, and he eventually got caught up in the music to the point where he looked up, eyes still closed, head tilted to one side and a dreamlike expression on his face. Contrary to what Bruce half expected, he didn't look feminine or sissified at all. He had a strong jaw, even features, thin lips and very fair skin. He didn't sing, just played three songs, then he was joined on the stage by another man, another blonde but this one with straight, pale hair and delicate features. Instead of bongo's this man quickly set up a small three piece drum kit. While he was doing that, the man called Spirit glanced up and even from his seat thirty feet away Bruce could see he had expressive soft gray eyes.  
'Soft'? Bruce caught himself as that thought drifted through his mind. Where the hell did that come from? People didn't have soft eyes, especially guys. The drummer on the stage spoke, simply introducing the two of them as Graeme and Janick, and that they called themselves Spirit. He pronounced Janick as though it started with a 'Y' but somewhere Bruce had heard of the Eastern European name Janick and remembered that Paul had said this guy was English but his name was foreign. Graeme was English too, but contrary to Bruce's limited exposure to the accent, these two didn't have that snooty Prince Charles way of speaking, their speech was somehow easier on the ear. Graeme played drums softly to accompany the next few songs Janick played and Bruce found that he was actually enjoying the performance. They had talent, Bruce listened to a lot of music and he knew talent when he heard it, and the guitarist's fingers seemed to flow over the strings like water. So caught up was he that he nearly forgot Jill at his side until she jostled his arm.  
"Those two are boring! I want to go home now anyway."  
Almost absentmindedly, Bruce shook his head. "I'm not ready to leave yet."  
"Bruce!" There was a whining note in her voice. "Come on, I said I want to go home."  
For some reason the whine was the last straw for Bruce. He knew that by 'going home' it meant that she expected him to walk her to the end of her block where she would give him a peck on the cheek, then she would run to her house before her parents could see who she had been with. He had had enough, his limited patience at an end.  
"Go home then." he said with a half shrug.  
Her mouth opened in shock. "You mean you expect me to walk all the way home by myself? Of all the selfish, ungentlemanly things....."  
Before she could even go on, Bruce fished a five dollar bill out of his wallet and tossed it in her direction. "Here, call yourself a cab if you want to go home. I'm staying here."  
"Since when do you hang out in coffee houses?!" She took on an indignant tone now, pouting and putting her hands on her hips.  
Spoiled brat, Bruce thought. "Since now, and if you're going to leave, please do it quietly. I'm trying to listen to these guys play."  
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, she was so speechless, then with a flounce she got up, shoved her chair back under the table, and stormed out, or at least as close to storming out as was possible in the crowded club, without another word.  
'Good riddance, miss spoiled brat cock-tease', Bruce thought, turning his attention back to the performance. Much to his disappointment, though, the two Englishmen were just finishing up their last number and a young woman in horn-rimmed glasses and a sheaf of papers in her hand was standing ready to take the stage. Another so-called poet, no doubt. Bruce watched as the man named Graeme quickly dismantled his drums, then Janick stood, stretching his arms a little, and the two of them left the stage walking toward the back of the club. Bruce once again found his eyes lingering on the slim blonde until he was lost in the crowd.  
Bruce got up to leave too. He didn't regret the departure of Jill, somehow he had known he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, but he needed a beer.

Once outside in the relatively fresh air, Bruce took a deep breath, lit a cigarette, and started walking, hands shoved deep in his pockets and no particular destination in mind. He was several blocks from his usual haunts and not familiar with this area so he ducked into the first bar he came across. It was dim inside, and after the cacophony of the coffee house it was quiet, almost peaceful. He took a stool and ordered his usual brand of beer, sitting and nursing it in a contemplative mood. He laughed a little at himself for it, wondering if the philosophical mentality of the coffee house crowd was starting to rub off on him. Maybe John and Chris were right, he mused. Maybe it was time for him to do something more with his life than work on cars and hang around pool halls. At one time he had wanted to join the military, but Vietnam was happening when he turned eighteen and when he was drafted he was rejected because of some misplaced vertebrae he hadn't even been aware of. So the military was out. He could go back to school, but even with the government grants that were now becoming available he had no idea what he would study. Lost in thought, it was some time before he became aware of the soft voices in a booth behind him. Voices with English accents.  
Bruce turned and was not surprised to see Spirit, which he now understood meant both Graeme and Janick, sitting not ten feet behind him drinking their own beers. They must have sensed his gaze on them because Graeme looked up curiously.  
Bruce nodded a greeting. "I saw you guys at The Grind just now. You're good."  
Janick looked up then and a smile spread across his face. "Thanks" His voice was quiet, as soft as his eyes, and upon hearing it Bruce felt an odd sensation in his stomach that he couldn't identify.  
Graeme seemed to be already half in the bag. "Come on over!" he waved at Bruce. "Join us, no sense in drinking alone, is there?"  
Unable to think of a reason to refuse, Bruce grabbed his beer and went over, Janick scooting over to the wall to give him room on that side of the booth.  
"I haven't noticed you two around before." Bruce commented. He was certain he would have remembered them if they'd been in the area long.  
"We got here over a month ago but we were down in Los Angeles until two weeks ago. "  
"We didn't like it there much," Janick added in his quiet way. "There was no work and the people weren't as friendly as here."  
"Have you found work here yet?" Bruce wasn't just making polite conversation, that wasn't his way. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he was genuinely interested.  
"I was hired at a restaurant a few days after we got here." Graeme said. "Bussing tables and washing dishes. Jan hasn't had any luck yet but he's been picking up a little money playing on the street corners downtown."  
"That seems to be a waste." Bruce was nothing if not brutally frank. "You're too good a guitarist to play on the streets."  
Jan flashed that quick, almost shy smile again and again Bruce felt something jump inside of him' Well, that is why we came to America." he admitted almost as though he was embarrassed. "The whole music scene in England is crazy now, everyone either wants to be Led Zeppelin or the Beatles. We heard there's more of a taste for harder hitting rock here but in L.A. everyone seemed to want to sing about dancing in a disco."  
Bruce nodded, laughing in agreement. He liked harder rock himself, it was nearly always blasting from the jukebox at Pete's. Bands like Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, and Zeppelin . The three men sat for nearly two hours with Bruce finding himself drawn deeper and deeper into the conversation . He learned the two had been schoolmates in some English town with the ungodly name of Hartlepool and had been playing music together since they were in their early teens. Graeme had grown quieter the more drunk he got, falling into a brooding half drowsy mood, so Bruce and Janick picked up the conversation. When Janick asked out of politeness where he was from though, Bruce veered away from the subject. It wasn't something he liked to think about, let alone talk about.  
"I'm from here, really. Been living here on my own since I was fourteen." is all he said. Janick gave him a quizzical look but didn't pursue the subject. Just them they both started a bit as Graeme sort of passed out, his head hitting the table in front of him with a soft thump, nearly spilled what was left of his last beer.  
Janick sighed, not disguising his frustration very well. "Well, he's out of it again."  
"Drinking problem?"  
"He never had, at least not before we came to America. I think he's disillusioned, or homesick. Or both. He's been bending the elbow entirely too much lately."  
Bruce bit back a smile at the English idiom 'bending the elbow' and offered to help Janick get Graeme home.  
"Oh you don't have to do that, I can manage. He'll revive a bit once we get outside and he gets some fresh air."  
Bruce shrugged. "Suit yourself, but I don't have anything better to do. Where are you guys staying, anyway."  
"We're renting beds at The Royal Inn right now."  
Bruce barely contained a shudder. The Royal Inn was a flophouse where bums and wino's would rent beds in a dormitory for a couple of dollars a night.  
"That's only a few blocks away," he said aloud. "Come on, let's get him there before he's completely out of it."  
Janick didn't argue, and between them the two men got the pale haired drummer to his feet and each supported one side of him as he woke up enough to stumble between them. Jan had been right, once outside Graeme was able to walk along between them, although unsteadily.  
"Too bad I don't know of a job for you, Janick." Bruce talked as they walked along. "You can't stay at The Royal Inn for long, they have rules against that."  
Jan nodded. He knew there was a rule that any one person couldn't stay for more than four consecutive weeks. The charity organization that ran the place made that regulation so more indigents would have the opportunity to rent a bed and it wouldn't become a permanent residence for anyone.  
"Yeah, well, hopefully something will turn up." Jan's voice was anything but hopeful. "I've been putting job applications in all over the area."  
"What if it doesn't?" Bruce felt compelled to ask.  
Jan's reply was just a shrug, at which point Graeme made an odd sound, turned away, and was sick in the gutter.  
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Jan murmured. Even though he had known him for only a few hours, Bruce could see that Jan had just about had enough of his drunken friend.  
The two men waited in awkward silence until the smaller man stopped heaving and once again struggled to his feet. By some miracle he had managed not to get anything on his clothing.  
"Sorry." he mumbled, attempting to continue down the sidewalk toward the fleabag rooming house. He stumbled, apparently over nothing, and Jan grabbed his arm with an exasperated expression and Bruce took hold of his other arm.  
The interior of The Royal Inn wasn't as bad as Bruce had imagined but it was no luxury hotel. There were four rooms with ten narrow beds each and though it was obvious that some effort was being made to keep it clean there was still an underlying scent of booze and piss that clung to some of the boarders. Luckily, the room Janick steered Graeme to was reasonably clean, no doubt since there were only two or three other bunks with meager belongings piled on them and one bunk with an older man sprawled on his stomach snoring lightly. Jan lowered his friend to a bunk where Graeme immediately lay back. Whether he fell asleep or passed out, Bruce couldn't tell.  
"This is no way to live." he muttered. He hadn't realized he's spoken aloud until Janick straightened from pulling a thin blanket over Graeme and gave a grimace.  
"Well it's not what I had in mind when I came to America, that's for certain."  
Bruce felt an unanticipated surge of protectiveness toward the slim guitarist. Something about the Englishman seemed too innocent, too naive for this. Before Graeme had got sick earlier he had been about to ask Janick what he would do if he couldn't find work, but now he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Instinctively he knew that the only practical thing for him to do would be to return to England and Bruce realized that for some reason he didn't want Janick to leave.  
Apparently Janick remembered that aborted conversation as well. "I don't think Graeme is cut out for this. I saw him writing his family a few days ago and I didn't mean to but I saw some of what he was saying. He was asking them to send money for him to come home."  
Jan sat on the bunk that was evidently his and Bruce sat beside him. "So if he goes home, will you go too?"  
"I don't know, mate. I just don't know."

Bruce didn't return to the coffee house after that night. For one thing, he sensed that Jill was now hanging out there and he wanted nothing more to do with her. And although he had enjoyed himself more than he expected to there, it really wasn't his scene. He continued with his same routine of working from 8 until 4 then going straight to Pete's. He lived in a room he rented over the garage he worked, his employer gave him a great deal on the rent but it was a tiny room with only a hotplate for cooking and a refrigerator barely big enough for a six pack of beer. Once or twice while he was shooting pool or just standing bullshitting with his friends around the foosball tables, Bruce saw a blonde man pass by on the sidewalk and found himself quickly taking a second look only to realize it wasn't Janick. In the back of his mind he found it mildly curious that he hadn't completely forgotten the two Englishmen. They had only met briefly, after all, and life was full of such brief encounters. Yet somehow at odd times throughout the day, Bruce found his thoughts drifting back to them, and in particular toward Janick. When he had left the boarding house that night Bruce had glanced back to see Janick sitting on his bunk with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor with an air of dejection about him. Something about the sight struck a chord with him and left him vaguely depressed.

After a few weeks passed, though, he began to accept this as just random curiosity. He told himself that these guys stood out in his mind simply because he had never met many English people. Life went on, but Bruce felt a sort of restlessness he couldn't define. Hanging out with the guys, drinking, and chasing women somehow wasn't as much fun as it used to be. He took to letting the conversations around the pool hall fade into the background as he thumbed through the outdated, worn magazines Pete kept in a rack by the snack counter. Paul noticed and teased him about it a few times, accusing him of mooning over Jill who, in truth, he had all but forgotten. John's girlfriend brought a couple of her friends to Pete's with her one night and John and Chris did their best to hook Bruce up with one of them, but he simply hadn't been able to muster up the interest. She wasn't bad looking and judging by her clothes and heavy makeup he could probably have had her in his bed with minimal effort, but somehow a meaningless one night stand didn't seem worth the effort. Instead he moved away from the raucous crowd at the pool tables and pinball machines, bored, and took a stool at the counter. Old Pete was behind the counter replenishing the supply of snacks on display for sale there, and Bruce noticed a fresh stack of magazines piled at the end of the counter.  
"You trying to spoil us, old man?" Bruce grinned, reaching for one. "These are less than a year old!"  
Pete looked over with his characteristic scowl, but Bruce wasn't fooled. Six years of hanging around there had taught him that Pete was a soft-hearted old man who grumbled a lot but was genuinely fond of them all, knowing he could have a far rougher crowd than this one calling his establishment their home-away-from-home.  
"Gathered them up from my son's house when he was moving." the old man muttered.  
Hot Rod magazine, Easy Rider, Popular Mechanics - all subjects Bruce was interested in. He spent the next hour reading through some of them, ignoring the bursts of laughter and loud juke box as best he could. He was finishing an article and thinking of heading home when something in the classifieds at the back of the issue caught his eye. It was a local California classic car magazine and the ad was one he hadn't seen before.  
Become an airline mechanic in just six months, it read. It was advertising night school classes to obtain certification to work on small planes at a Bay area Community College. On impulse, Bruce tore the ad out and stuffed it in his pocket heading out without even bothering to tell his friends he was leaving.

The timing couldn't have been better, Bruce realized one week later as he left his first class. It was the end of August and fall term was just starting at the college. The class had luckily still had openings or he wouldn't have been able to enroll on such short notice. He had to take a loan against his wages from his boss to get the initial tuition money but the boss knew he would work it off in overtime and weekend projects. The only drawback was that the college was almost an hours walk from his room and now that he was in debt he didn't feel like paying for the bus unless it was raining and he absolutely had to.  
Rather than going to his room, Bruce automatically headed to Pete's only to be pounced on by his friends. He realized with a start that this had been the first night he could remember when he hadn't gone straight to the pool hall from work.  
"Where the hell have you been, man?" Paul looked up from his pinball game, then cursed as he tilted.  
"Got yourself a new chick, I bet!" John laughed.  
Bruce tried to shrug off their questions but they wouldn't be dissuaded so he eventually had to tell them he was taking night classes. He braced himself for the teasing he really didn't feel like putting up with, but to his complete surprise, no one gave him as much as a funny look.  
"I've been thinking about doing something like that." Chris said.  
"I took some classes after I got out of school" Barry added. He was a quiet man, most people thought he made his living as a pool shark but Bruce knew he worked mornings as a plumber. Turns out he had learned the plumbing trade at similar Community College classes as Bruce was taking. 'Son of a bitch', Bruce thought to himself. He had been worried he was leaving his friends behind, outgrowing them. It turned out they were all growing up.

Bruce was naturally bright and had an aptitude for mechanics so his first couple of weeks of classes were going very well. The only thing that sucked was the walk home. It was damp and foggy most evenings by the time his class let out at 9:00 and he had recently started taking a shortcut through a city park. Given his overall appearance - long hair, denim, leather, and his general muscular build he wasn't concerned about muggers so he wasn't paying particular attention as he walked along until he felt his foot knock against something that gave at the edge of a row of bushes. He jumped, startled, when the bush suddenly rustled and a form sat up off the ground.  
"Sorry" Bruce muttered, barely glancing at the bum he assumed he'd awakened. The streetlight was dim and he wasn't sure why, but something struck him as familiar about the person he'd disturbed. He looked closer. Tousled honey blond hair, a slim form in worn denim - it was the English guitarist!  
"Janick?" Bruce said, surprised that he had even remembered the outlandish name.  
Janick stood up slowly, stiff from the cold damp ground, looking blankly at Bruce at first, then he smiled the smile that seemed to have ingrained itself in Bruce's memory.  
"Bruce, right?" The soft north English voice sounded almost hoarse and Bruce was immediately concerned.  
"What the hell are you doing sleeping on the ground, man?!"  
"Oh....ummmm," Janick seemed at a loss for words and shifted awkwardly on his feet.  
Bruce immediately went into action. "Come on, you need a cup of coffee or cocoa or something hot."  
"No, I'm fine, I just need to find a bigger bush to lie under." Janick made a feeble attempt at brushing his situation aside with humor.  
Bruce wouldn't take no for an answer, he'd already taken hold of the slim Englishman's upper arm and was leading him toward the street outside the park. Janick barely had time to snatch up the ratty backpack he had been using as a pillow. He didn't complain, but Bruce scarcely gave him the opportunity, walking rapidly and with purpose to a donut shop he knew of nearby, practically dragging Janick along with him. It wasn't until he had ordered two large hot cocoas and they were sitting in a booth did Bruce take a good look at the other man under the shop's fluorescent lights.  
Janick looked like a wet cocker spaniel, Bruce thought. His long wavy hair was damp and in disarray and had bits of grass and leaves in it. He was obviously damp to the skin and even though Bruce remembered that he was very fair skinned, he looked unnaturally pale and thin.  
"Thanks, Bruce" he said quietly, wrapping his long fingers around the Styrofoam cup and sipping the hot liquid carefully.  
"You're welcome. Now, what the fuck were you doing sleeping out there?"  
Janick looked down, almost as though he were ashamed. "The time limit was up at the boarding house two weeks ago. I....I haven't been able to find another place to stay yet."  
"And your friend, Graeme? Where is he?"  
Janick's lips pressed into a thin line. "He went home a few days before we had to leave The Royal Inn."  
"He went back to England and just left you here!" Bruce was indignant.  
"I could have gone with him, but I had an audition set up with a band and Graeme didn't want to wait. I figured I could follow him home if I didn't get the job."  
"And you didn't get it?" Bruce was stating the obvious. "But you didn't go back to England. Why not."  
Janick sighed and his thin shoulders slumped a little. He looked down, toying with the rim of his cup. "I was going to. My family sent me the money, it arrived the day before I had to leave the boarding house. But...."  
"But what?" Bruce was getting impatient but tried not to show it.  
Janick still didn't raise his eyes. "I was so careful at that boarding house. Every night I either slept on my backpack or had my wrist through the strap as I slept. But apparently I move more in my sleep than I thought I did." A quick, rueful smile flashed across his lips, immediately vanishing. "I woke up the next morning and my backpack was still lying by my bed but the envelope with the money my Mum sent was gone. Somebody stole it just inches away from me as I slept!"  
There was a note of anger in Jan's voice, but it was overwhelmed by a kind of hopeless despair. Bruce understood the anger. It would have been hopeless to try to determine who could have stolen the money, that place was accessible to almost anyone off the street. There was always staff manning the front desk but usually only one person and one person couldn't see everything. But the despair touched something in Bruce's heart and brought back feelings he had been repressing for years.  
"And your parents can't afford to send more money, am I right?"  
Janick shook his head. "I'm not even sure how they raised the money in the first place. And I....I didn't want to admit to them I'd let it be stolen right from under my nose."  
"That wasn't your fault!"  
"No, but still I feel I let them down somehow. They weren't happy about my coming to America in the first place."  
Bruce was listening, but he was watching Jan too. His voice was raw and Bruce was convinced he was getting sick, if he wasn't already.  
"Listen, I'm not going to let you sleep in the park! I only have a room, but I want you to stay there with me until you can get things figured out."  
"I can't do that," Janick was already shaking his head to refuse. "I only make ten or twenty dollars a day playing on the corner downtown, I can't afford....."  
Bruce broke in. "Did I say you had to pay anything? I'm doing okay. You can buy some bread or milk or whatever if you want to help out, but I only pay fifty a month for the room anyway, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you sleep in the park another night!"  
Bruce's voice had a tone to it that made Jan look at him oddly. "I....I'm grateful for the offer but, well, why do you care if I sleep in the park? You barely know me!"  
Bruce wasn't sure why, but he found himself talking, telling Jan what his closest friends didn't even know. "Because I used to sleep in the park. I was only fourteen, scared to death, hungry all the time. I know what it's like, man!"  
Jan looked at him not quite understanding. "Why were you sleeping in the park when you were only fourteen years old?" He spoke softly, as though he knew he had no right to ask such a personal question.  
It was Bruce's turn to look down, but he spoke frankly. "I ran away from home. My parents were just teenagers when I was born, they never wanted me. I was just in their way and I got shuffled from one relative to another. I ended up with a cousin who sold drugs and had weird people coming in and out of his house all the time. I didn't want any part of that, I got the hell out of there."  
Jan's eyes were like the sky, Bruce noticed then. Clear and bright when he was at ease, but dark and cloudy when he was upset and he was upset now at hearing Bruce's story.  
"I'm sorry that happened to you."  
Bruce tried to shrug it off. "It was a long time ago. I was able to pass for sixteen so I got a job, and I made it. But you....you're not even from this country, man. And winter is coming, it's going to get cold and rainy. Come stay with me for awhile until you decide what you're going to do next. Please?" It was the first time Bruce could remember saying 'please' in a long, long time.  
Janick sat still, looking at him straight in the eye for a long minute, then he seemed to make up his mind. "I won't be there any longer than I have to. I just need to get a job and earn enough money to get a plane ticket home."  
Bruce felt himself smile. "Good. Good!”

Janick had been visibly shivering when they'd first arrived but after his second cup of hot cocoa he looked much better. Bruce almost hated to tell them they still had a half hour walk ahead of them to his place.  
To his relief, Janick smiled. "That's fine, I walk all the time. I love to walk."  
Something just occurred to Bruce. "I never heard your last name."  
"It's Gers"  
"Gers" Bruce repeated slowly. "Doesn't sound English. Mine is Dickinson, by the way."  
Janick gave his first real smile "I'm glad to meet you, Mister Dickinson! Gers is actually Polish, my Dad was from Poland."  
Bruce returned the smile. "Well I'm glad to know you too, Mister Gers!"

The two of them talked as they walked to Bruce's room, getting to know a bit more about one another. Janick told Bruce he was called Jan by his friends asked Bruce to call him that,  
"I don't tell people my last name unless I have to." Bruce confessed. "I'm not necessarily proud of my family so I just tell people to call me Bruce. If they ask for a full name I tell them it's Bruce Bruce."  
Jan laughed. "You told me your last name readily enough." he pointed out.  
Bruce realized he had, at that. "I guess it's because I knew you wouldn't know my family he laughed.

The garage where Bruce worked and lived above was on a street corner in a rather run down neighborhood and for the first time Bruce felt almost embarrassed about his living situation as the two men climbed the rickety outside stairs alongside the building. There was faint smell of gasoline and motor oil in the area and as Bruce unlocked his door he half wished he hadn't suggested this at all. But Jan didn't bat an eye when Bruce switched on the light switch, even though the room was only approximately 15 foot square and furnished only with a bed, a dresser, a worn sofa, a table he found discarded on the sidewalk one day that he used as his kitchen counter and another old Formica kitchen table set as a dining table. A door to a three piece bathroom was tucked in a corner. There wasn't even a closet, Bruce kept his clean clothes on pegs on the wall and his dirty ones in a basket in the corner.

Janick stepped inside, giving Bruce a smile that put his worries to rest. "I really do appreciate this, Bruce." He lay his bulging backpack by the door and followed Bruce inside.

"Are you still cold? You can take a hot shower if you want."

Jan sighed "That sounds wonderful. You haven't mentioned it but I'm sure you've noticed I haven't had a chance to shower in a week."

Bruce grinned. "To tell the truth, I didn't notice. You smell like fresh clipped grass to me." The minute he said that he realized it sounded weird, but it was true. Somehow Jan's sleeping on the ground had given him an outdoorsy scent.  
Jan didn't notice the odd phrasing and Bruce dug some clean towels out for him. Jan turned the shower on to warm it up and Bruce turned to leave the minuscule bathroom, then turned to show Jan where the shampoo and soap was, then he stopped short. Jan assumed he had already left and had stripped off his shirt so Bruce found himself less than a foot from the smooth, milky white skin of Jan's finely toned back. Jan was unbuckling his belt before he realized Bruce was there and turned, and their eyes met for a weirdly awkward moment.  
"Umm....the shampoo and soaps are in the cabinet under the sink. I'll go find some blankets for the couch for you."  
Jan smiled again, and Bruce had the odd sensation of fluttering in his stomach.  
"Thanks" Jan said again, and Bruce left the bathroom hurriedly.

 

Once back in the main room Bruce collapsed on the couch, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. His heart was hammering and he was completely confused because for a moment just then he had the almost irrepressible urge to reach out and run his fingers down the smooth skin of Jan's back. A memory came unbidden to his mind, something he hadn't thought about in years. He had been about twelve and living with one of his aunts on his Mother's side, a respectable woman who lived the idea suburban life with her family in a nice area of Mill Valley. Bruce had attended school there for almost a year, the longest he had ever gone to one school, and made friends with a boy named Jimmy. At that age, they had both been developing a healthy curiosity about the world and about themselves. Especially about themselves. His stay at Aunt Marie's had ended when her husband had walked into the garage one afternoon to find Bruce and Jimmy jacking each other off. The incident hadn't been the first between the two boys and by then Bruce had learned something very important about himself. He liked sex, and he didn't mind whether it was with boys or girls.

Maybe asking Janick to stay was a mistake. Bruce knew he would have to be careful.

The next few days passed without incident, in fact Bruce was finding he got along very well with Jan. Jan was easygoing, always cheerful, and the two shared a number of similar interests, music being only one of them. Because Bruce had only to go downstairs to go to work, Jan usually left the apartment first with the 'help wanted' clippings from the previous day's paper and a well worn map of the city. He had started applying in other parts of the city now and once he had exhausted all the employment opportunities in that area he would take the guitar he kept stored at The Grind and play as people threw money into the guitar case. Some days he did quite well, making twenty or thirty dollars, and some days he brought home only a few dollars. Even though Bruce told him he didn't need to, he would always bring home at least some groceries, even if it was only a dozen eggs or a couple of frozen pizzas.

Bruce had his classes four nights a week, and the first time he came home from class after Jan's arrival he hardly recognized the room. Jan had cleaned it top to bottom, even washing the windows and cleaning the bathroom shower and toilet. Bruce stood and turned in a complete circle as Jan sat on the couch looking a little sheepish.  
"Are you sure this is the same apartment!" Bruce exclaimed. "I never knew it could look this clean. It even smells clean!" Somehow Jan had eliminated the ever-present grease smell that had always clung to the place.  
Jan just tilted his head in the way Bruce was learning meant he was self conscious. "I tried not to mess up the way you have things organized."  
Bruce laughed, flopping next to him on the sagging couch. "You don't have to worry about that, I didn't have anything organized anyway!"  
Jan got up and took out the pizza he had in the oven and brought a few slices over to Bruce along with a beer from the mini-fridge. Bruce could get used to this, he reflected.

Jan was a little uncertain the first time Bruce asked him to tag along to Pete's, but he needn't have been. Bruce had already filled the boys in on Jan's situation and they were sympathetic. Each and every one of them had been down on their luck at some point and they were good hearted men underneath all the boisterous rowdiness. If they weren't, Bruce would have ditched them long ago. Jan had been reserved at first but once he discovered they treated him no differently in spite of his odd accent and different background, he grew more at ease and after that he accompanied Bruce to Pete's quite often. Bruce himself didn't have the opportunity to go there as often since starting his classes, and some evenings he found he just preferred to come back to his room and have a beer with Jan as they watched something on his old black-and-white TV.

It was on one of the nights they had both gone to Pete's after Bruce got home from class, however, that Jan found a job. Barry's boss, the owner of the plumbing company he worked for, needed a helper. The person didn't need any special knowledge of plumbing, his job would be merely to fetch and carry equipment for the licensed plumbers, but Jan jumped at the opportunity eagerly. His excitement after being so long unemployed was infectious and to celebrate five or six of them went to the bar two doors down to celebrate. One by one, however, the others left so by midnight it was Just Jan and Bruce and a smattering of other patrons. Deciding a booth would be more comfortable, they moved to one and ordered another beer. For some reason Bruce kept looking at the sparkle in Jan's eyes and smiling to himself. Then he reminded himself of what it meant now that Jan would be earning some money.  
"How long do you think it will take for you to save up enough for a plane ticket home?"  
He wasn't prepared for the flash of hurt that passed over Jan's face, nor the subdued response. Jan had done a complete 180 from his earlier bubbly mood.  
"I'll save it up as quickly as I can. I know I've been imposing on you too long already."  
"It's only been three weeks!" Bruce protested. "And that isn't why I'm asking anyway, I just don't remember Barry saying how much the job pays. Hell, I hope it takes you a year, I don't want you to go!"  
If he hadn't been drinking Bruce would have been more guarded with his words, but he was rewarded by a brilliant smile from Jan. "Yeah? That's really nice of you to say."  
Bruce felt flustered, which was completely unlike him. "I mean, I know you want to get home and all....." he tried to cover.  
Jan was shaking his head. "What I want is to make music, that's why I came here. I don't give up as easily as Graeme. If this job works out for me I may not hurry straight back to England. Maybe I'll get my own place, keep auditioning for awhile. I have to start this job first anyway. Who knows, I may get sacked on my first day! I know nothing about plumbing."  
Bruce felt more relief than he knew he should upon hearing Jan wasn't going to rush straight home, but he didn't let on. "Barry already told his boss that and the guy said to hire you anyway. "  
Jan lifted his glass toward Bruce "You're good luck for me, Bruce. If it weren't for you I wouldn't have a job or even a roof over my head."  
"And if it wasn't for you I'd still be living in a messy, lonely room." Bruce clicked his glass with Jan's and gulped it quickly, aware that he'd spoken without thinking first again. He had just admitted how lonely he had been before, which was one of the reasons he used to spend most of his time at Pete's.  
"We're both winners, then!" Jan smiled, and Bruce suddenly decided he had enough to drink for the night because he had a strong urge to lean across the table and kiss Jan.  
It was a Friday night, though, and he couldn't think up a good excuse to go home early so he stayed, sipping his next beer more slowly and trying to keep his mind off how good Jan looked sitting there, with the neon lights from the beer signs making his hair look like it had pink and blue highlights. Bruce wished he would stop smiling so much, though, because there was something about that smile that made Bruce's brain feel like it was melting. It was a closed-lip smile, not a grin, usually not showing teeth but it still managed to express everything Jan intended, whether it was mirth, sympathy, or camaraderie as it was now.

An hour later the two men decided to head back to their room. Bruce had to do some tasks for Butch, his boss, in repayment of the college loan even though he generally didn't work Saturdays and though he didn't necessarily have to do them first thing in the morning, he didn't want to be hung over all day and screw something up. Jan planned to go to the library and read up a little about plumbing so he at least would have a general familiarity with it on his first day on the job on Monday. It was only a five minute walk before they found themselves climbing the wooden stairs to the room. Jan was in front and Bruce was noticing that his friend may have had a bit more to drink than he realized as Jan was holding the stair rail to steady himself as he climbed. Halfway up, however, they were both startled by a loud clang from the trash cans directly below the stairs. They knew it was no doubt one of the neighborhood cats but that didn't stop them from jumping a little and Jan let go of the rail, immediately losing his balance and falling back into Bruce who was one step below him.

"Whoa, there!" Bruce said, putting out his hands to catch him, but he miscalculated and Jan instead landed firmly against his chest. Bruce suddenly found himself with Jan's long, silky hair in his face and the solid warmth of Jan's body leaning against him. A wave of desire coursed through him so fast and so unexpectedly he gasped out loud.  
Jan straightened himself, stepping back up. "Sorry, mate. Lost my balance a bit there."  
"It's....it's okay." Bruce managed to say, though he almost couldn't hear himself over the pounding of blood in his ears. And that wasn't the only place blood was pounding. He had a fierce hard on that had happened so quickly he wouldn't even have thought it was possible to be that turned on so fast.  
He followed quietly as Jan unlocked the door and immediately headed for the bathroom while Jan began throwing the spare blankets he'd been using over the couch so he could go to bed.  
In the bathroom Bruce splashed cold water over his face, wondering if he should take a cold shower but deciding against it. He couldn't seem to get the scent of Jan's hair out of his nostrils, though, and it was acting as an aphrodisiac but in some perverse way he didn't want it to go away. It was a sweetish, herbal scented shampoo mixed with fresh air and it made Bruce's head spin. Or had that been the split second of full body contact they had before Jan regained his balance?

When he finally felt he had his composure back, Bruce opened the bathroom door and promptly wished he's rattled the knob or made some indication he was coming back into the room. Jan was changing into the loose jogging pants and tank top he slept in and as Bruce opened the door he was just pulling on the pants. Bruce got an all too brief but extremely memorable view of long slim thighs and perfect creamy white buttocks.  
Jan turned, oblivious to the fact that Bruce had seen anything, and pulled on the tank top before Bruce had seen nearly enough of his bare, virtually hairless chest. Now Bruce's erection was back in full force and he was at a loss what to do about it. It would look ridiculous for him to turn and go straight back into the bathroom but he couldn't simply walk around as he normally would. He half turned away from Jan and fussed with his own narrow bed, folding down the covers and fluffing his lumpy old pillow until he sensed Jan's presence directly behind him.  
"What's the matter, Bruce? You look a bit off. Have a little too much to drink?"  
Bruce forced a laugh. "I guess I must have. I'm just going to crash. I'll see you in the morning. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw Jan give a puzzled look but he didn't say anything. He switched off the overhead light, leaving only the one lamp by Bruce's bed to light the room, and returned to the couch.  
"Goodnight then." Jan called as he lay down.  
"Goodnight." Bruce answered softly, reaching up to switch off the lamp. He's gone to bed fully clothed because of his 'condition' so after he heard Jan's breathing become even and steady and knew he was asleep, he wriggled out of his jeans with a sigh of relief. Luckily he had worn briefs that day, although he didn't always, and could sleep in them. At least, he could if his erection went away but it was showing no signs of doing that. Knowing Jan was sleeping not ten feet away was making it impossible for him to keep his thoughts on the straight and narrow.  
Bruce felt his hand slide slowly through his chest hair almost as though it had a mind of it's own, and before he realized it he was grasping himself through his underwear, squeezing slightly. He couldn't get the image of those long legs and that firm ass out of his mind and he started squeezing himself more rhythmically. Almost unable to help himself, Bruce pushed his briefs down past his thighs and began to stroke himself. Thinking about Jan's long legs wrapped around him, thinking of cupping that perfect ass in his hands, it didn't take very long at all until he felt the growing tenseness of an orgasm. He clamped his free hand over his mouth, biting down on his own fingers as he came, unable to be as quiet as he had hoped he could. Letting the waves subside, he held stock still and listened, breathing a sigh of relief when there seemed to be no change in the rhythm of Jan's breathing. Bruce turned his head to look toward the couch, which was against a wall perpendicular to where his bed stood. Faint streetlight came through the window and illuminated waves of hair cascading across the pillow as Jan slept, one pale arm outside the blanket. Bruce fell asleep still watching the slumbering form across the room.

 

When Bruce awakened he was conscious of a dull throbbing headache. He was facing the wall and turned over carefully when he heard a sound to see Jan already awake and waiting for the coffee to filter through the coffee maker. As soon as he saw the slim blonde memories of the night before came back to him. He knew he had been slightly drunk but not drunk enough to explain why he had been bombarded with lustful thoughts about his roommate. No, the reason stood across the room from him, unaware as of yet that Bruce was awake. Janick was sexy as hell, there was no other way of putting it.  
Yet Bruce still felt a twinge of guilt. Jan was sex on legs, sure, but he was also gentle, thoughtful and kind and didn't deserve to have Bruce thinking these thoughts about him. when jerking off the night before Bruce's mind had conjured up images of doing things with Jan he had never done with any of the girls he had slept with and had never even thought of doing with Jimmy, his only other male sex partner. He and Jimmy had jerked off in front of each other, jerked each other off, and one two or three occasions experimented with blow jobs but that was as far as Bruce had gone with another male and that had been over ten years before. he had fantasized of doing more than that with Jan, much much more. Already having a boner from waking up having to piss, these thoughts weren't helping matters any. Bruce quietly slipped out of bed and into the bathroom to take a leak, followed by a shower. Only then did he feel more like his usual self and was able to act normally when he returned to the main room.  
"Good morning." He greeted Jan as Jan handed him a cup of coffee and they sat at the tiny table to eat some toast and jelly.  
"Morning." Jan replied quietly, and when he looked up he found those expressive gray eyes watching him with an intensity he found a bit disconcerting.  
"What's the matter, do I look that bad?" Bruce joked.  
Jan flashed a quick smile. "No, you look good. "  
"I don't feel so good, but better than I did when I woke up."  
"Bruce...."Jan seemed hesitant, then plunged ahead. "Just how drunk were you last night."  
"Not very. Just a little tipsy. I haven't been doing much drinking lately though, which is probably why I have this headache this morning. Truthfully, I think you were a little more drunk than I was."  
"Maybe I was, a little. But not as drunk as you think I was."  
They finished their meager breakfast and moved to sit on the couch, taking their coffee with them. Jan's words had been a little cryptic.  
"What do you mean, not as drunk as I think you were?"  
Jan looked at Bruce, then looked down at the coffee cup he held with both hands wrapped around it. He was quiet for so long Bruce thought he wasn't going to explain what he meant, then he raised his eyes to Bruce again and the intense look was back.  
"I heard you last night." he said softly.  
Bruce felt his heart jump a little. What was Jan saying’  
“Heard me?” Bruce echoed blankly, hoping he was wrong. “Heard…….what?”  
Jan smiled the smile that melted Bruce, and this time there was a touch of something else in the smile, something more intimate.  
"I think you know what. And I heard you say my name." Jan added, his cheeks flushing a little as he said it.  
‘Oh, God!’, Bruce thought. He had tried to be so quiet and even though he had been thinking about Jan he hadn't realized he had said his name out loud.  
He was speechless, embarrassed, and afraid that Jan was going to pack up his things immediately and take his chances back out of the streets rather than stay with a man who masturbated while saying his name.  
To Bruce's surprise, Jan reached out and placed his hand on Bruce's arm. "I'm not angry about it. I'm just.....curious. I know you were trying to be quiet but I heard my name as clear as day. Not too many words sound like Janick."  
Bruce found himself smiling ruefully. "How about panic? Because that pretty much describes how I feel right now."  
Jan had to laugh a little. "Well, don't. I was just wondering why."  
Bruce put down his cup and faced Jan deciding to lay his cards on the table. Nothing he could say would be any worse than what Jan had heard anyway  
"I discovered a long time ago I like boys as well as girls. I've never done much about it, though. None of my friends know, except you, now. It freaks most people out. And right now I'm thinking you're probably going to move out of here as soon as you can. Maybe now that you'll be working with Barry he knows of a place you can stay...."  
"Bruce, will you shut up a minute!" Jan was laughing quietly. "I don't want to move out of here right away unless you want me to."  
Bruce was beyond surprised. "You're not weirded out about this? Not just about me being bisexual, but by me jerking off while thinking about you?"  
Jan blushed a little but his gaze didn't waver. "No, I'm not. Do you want to know why?"  
Bruce nodded. He couldn't seem to find his voice, he was still struggling to accept this whole conversation was taking place.  
Jan put his coffee cup down too and pulled his feet up on the couch, facing Bruce. "Because for a few months back in secondary school Graeme and I………....," Jan blushed again and looked down at his feet which were crossed Indian-style in front on him. “We were young and randy and curious. Graeme was always like that, he would get interested in something, experiment with it for a while, then move on. We’ve stayed friends, obviously. We’re both musicians and we both want to make a living from it, but he moved on to other things to experiment with in school. Still, I wasn’t sorry it happened because I learned a lot about myself. I learned that I like both boys and girls too. So how can I judge you?”  
Bruce was stunned. He hadn’t expected this at all. He absently reached for his cup and took a sip of the now lukewarm liquid, lost in thought. One thing kept coming to the forefront of his mind, though. One thing he still didn't understand.  
"But.....but that doesn't mean it's okay for me to fantasize about you! You're my roommate, you're my friend. You should be insulted or at least a little alarmed about this!"  
Jan spread his hands. "Why should I? " He reached out again and lay his hand on Bruce's arm. "Maybe I've had similar thoughts about you."  
Bruce's body reacted before his brain could even assimilate Jan's words. He felt the same surge of desire that he felt the night before on the stairs, only this time it was stronger. Jan's hand felt impossibly hot on his bare forearm and Bruce put his own hand over it, pulling Jan closer. Jan moved willingly and when Bruce leaned in to press his lips lightly to Jan's, Jan immediately returned the pressure.  
When they drew apart, Bruce noticed Jan's gray eyes were darker and he correctly interpreted the look as desire. "Did you mean that?" he had to ask. "That you've thought about me that way too?"  
Jan smiled. "Of course. How could I not? Look at you - you're incredibly sexy! " Jan's fingers moved to play with the ends of Bruce's silky brown hair. "But more important than that, you're a good person. You helped me when you didn't even know me."  
Bruce felt a lump in his throat. He had been called many things in his life but never a good person. "I'm not a good person, Jan. I wouldn't have done that for most people. There was just something about you. I'd only met you once but I couldn't get you out of my mind."  
Jan looked surprised. "Really? It was the same with me, that's how I recognized you in the park that night!"  
The two fell silent, but it wasn't an awkward silence. They still sat close, their faces mere inches apart and their eyes locked. Bruce wanted so badly to know what Jan was thinking so he finally asked.  
"I'm wondering what happens now." Jan admitted.  
"Me too." Bruce said quietly. "I know one thing for certain, though. I want you."  
They kissed again, longer this time, and when Bruce flicked his tongue against Jan's lips they opened instantly to allow him entry. His hands had been resting on Jan's shoulders but now his arms closed around the blond and he breathed in the scent that drove him crazy. Jan moaned quietly against Bruce's lips and slid his own arms around his muscular back, stroking his long hair then tightening, pulling Bruce closer. The two men parted only out of the necessity to breathe and they sat, somewhat breathless, looking at one another with something akin to wonder. The sexual chemistry in that kiss had been stronger than either of them had expected and there had been something deeper there, something completely unexpected. They didn't have to ask, each could tell the other had felt it as well.

And neither knew quite what to do about it or even what it was. But it wasn't simple lust. Bruce knew lust well, and lust made his dick hard but it didn't make his stomach quiver or his heart hammer like it was right now. He reached out and cupped a hand on Jan's face, his thumb gently stroking his cheek. He didn't know what to say, though, or even if he should say anything at all.  
Jan leaned into Bruce's touch, closing his eyes, and Bruce forgot about trying to stay composed, he forgot about trying to stay in control and not say or do something foolish. He forgot about everything except the  
"Kiss me again, Bruce." Jan whispered and Bruce did without hesitation, again and again, the kisses deepening and becoming more intense, lips being nipped by teeth, tongues entwined, exploring each other's mouths as they began to lose themselves in the sensations. After several torrid minutes Jan broke away.  
Bruce...." he was breathing hard and swallowed, trying to form words. "Bruce how.....how far have you gone with another man?"

Bruce didn't want to talk or even think at that moment but he knew Jan deserved an honest answer. "Not very far. Not all the way, if that's what you're asking. And it was a long, long time ago."  
Jan leaned into Bruce, burying his face in Bruce's neck. "I haven't gone all the way either," he confessed. "Graeme only wanted to.....to get off, it wasn't very intimate." He raised his head and looked at Bruce. "I want something more than that with you, Bruce. Something more than just groping when no one is looking or quick blow jobs in a car."  
Bruce was running his fingers through Jan's hair. It was hypnotic, he couldn't seem to stop doing it. "I want more, too. I'm not going to use you just to get off, I promise you."  
For an answer Jan kissed him again and let his hands slide down Bruce's back to the inch or so of exposed flesh between the edge of his shirt and his jeans. When the fingers touched the bare skin of his back Bruce moved his lips down Jan's neck to the low neckline of the sleeveless tee he was wearing, skimming across the smooth white flesh, nipping then soothing the nips with his tongue. Taking hold of Jan's shoulders, Bruce lay back pulling Jan over him, never stopping their kisses. He wrapped his arms around Jan and let his palms slide down until he was cupping his butt, pulling him tighter, closer to him. The were still clothed but could each feel the hardness of the other man's excitement even through the material and Bruce instinctively raised his hips, pressing against Jan, moving subtly to create just enough friction to cause Jan's breath to hitch. 

Jan was lying half on top of Bruce and pressing hot, moist kisses to his jaw and neck. Bruce wore an ordinary crew neck tee so pausing for a mere second he pulled it off, tossing it aside. Jan ran his hands around Bruce's flanks and up his chest, his fingers sliding through Bruce's abundant body hair. Bruce tugged at the hem on Jan's shirt and he took the hint, removing it.  
"Look at us," Jan breathed, looking down at their chests. "I'm so pale and white and you're so dark and hairy!"  
"Opposites attract," Bruce murmured before catching Jan in another kiss, following it with kisses down his chest. When he neared the dark bud of a nipple he playfully flicked his tongue against it, pleased with the way Jan's body immediately responded by arching up off the cushions and the way Jan grasped his head to hold him there for a moment as he lavished attention to first one nipple, then the other. Jan's hands were busy exploring Bruce's torso, combing through his chest hair, tracing across the muscles of his stomach and down to the snap of his jeans.  
Bruce was a little amazed at how readily he was responding to the slightest touch of Jan's hands and mouth. He felt light headed, almost giddy even though he was mad with desire for the slim blond. Jan still wore the jogging pants he had slept in and Bruce's fingers found the elastic waistband, dipping inside. He could feel Jan trembling at the touch and he felt Jan's fingers unbuttoning his jeans, fumbling a bit with shakiness. The couch was narrow and uncomfortable so Bruce sat up, his hand holding tightly to Jan's, and without a word they moved over to the bed. Jan lay on his back, blonde wavy hair tousled around his head, looking up at Bruce with slate gray eyes.  
"God, you're so perfect!" Bruce didn't intend to say it out loud but he couldn't have imagined anything more beautiful than this man lying half naked beneath him and he didn't regret his words.  
Jan didn't reply, his fingers returning to the zipper of Bruce's jeans, working it down slowly. Bruce couldn't wait any more, he had to see more of Jan, feel more of him, taste him and know every inch of him. He slid the elastic waist pants down Jan's slim hips, leaning to press more kisses to his chest as he did so and then kissing lower, following the progress of the pants as he lowered them. Jan was so aroused Bruce had to be careful to work the pants over his erection, then he was at his goal. It had been a long time since he'd done this but he had been the recipient enough times to know what to do. At the first touch of his tongue to Jan's member Jan cried out, a sort of gasping moan, which only encouraged Bruce to grow bolder. He enveloped Jan, closing his mouth around him, tasting him and savoring the sweet salty essence of him. Jan's hands grasped his hair, his entire body trembling now.  
"S....stop, Bruce. If you don't stop now......,"  
Bruce didn't want to stop but he reluctantly pulled away with one final broad swipe of his tongue, raising back up and feeling Jan go for his zipper as soon as he could reach it.  
"I have to feel you too," Jan was murmuring. "Have to see you and touch you.." He was almost incoherent by now and Bruce couldn't even reply, instead slipping his jeans down and kicking them to the floor. They were both completely nude now, with Bruce lying between Jan's outstretched legs. He felt Jan's hand slip between them to softly close around him. He scarcely recognized the moan as coming from his own lips, he couldn't have imagined anything feeling so good as Jan tightened his grasp and began to slowly pump him. Then Jan slowly moved down his body, copying Bruce's move of toying with the nipples on the way, nipping a bit at the straight, thick hair of Bruce's chest until he reached Bruce . Suddenly Bruce felt the soft, moist warmth of Jan's mouth around him. Jan moaned, the humming vibrations were nearly Bruce's undoing, then he nuzzled into the crisp hair, alternating between nipping at it and working Bruce with his mouth. When Bruce felt Jan's tongue lower to his balls, though, he knew he couldn't hold back much longer.  
"Jan, switch around! I want to taste you too. I want us to come together!"  
Jan obligingly turned and Bruce sought him out eagerly, feeling Jan's tongue swirling around him again as soon as he was in position. The sensations were incredibly intense but he couldn't pull away, he didn't want to stop. When his orgasm came it was like a tidal wave, coursing through him in waves so strong he knew he must have cried out, though he wasn't aware of it at the time. As soon as he felt Bruce reach his peak Jan gave a strangled moan and Bruce's mouth was flooded with his hot seed, which he swallowed eagerly.

The two lay still, panting as though they had run a marathon, then Jan dragged himself back up to lay next to Bruce.  
“Wow!" Jan managed to breathe out. "That was....wow!"  
Bruce chuckled. "It certainly was!" He turned toward Jan and pulled him close, one hand cupping his head and playing with his now tangled hair. Jan nuzzled into the crook of his neck and sighed with contentment. His fingers were still combing through Bruce's chest hair and Bruce tried to collect his thoughts. He was having difficulty analyzing his feelings. This had quite possibly been the most incredible sex of his life and it had just been a blow job. He felt his heart constrict imagining what it would feel like to be inside Jan and feel himself surrounded by him.  
"Jan?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Do you want to sleep in the bed with me from now on?" Bruce wasn't sure of any better way to ask but he wanted to know if Jan wanted this to be a regular thing.  
Jan raised his head and looked at Bruce. "Can I? Because yes, I do very much want to."  
Bruce closed his eyes and imagined having Jan's slim, warm body lying close every night and to his surprise he wasn't conjuring up sexual images. Rather, he was thinking of Jan's warmth, his scent, his sweet smile, his expressive gray eyes. That was when it dawned on him that this isn't merely a sexual attraction.  
Jan was still looking at him when he opened his eyes. The blonde looked a little uncertain, almost uneasy. "I like you a lot, Bruce. You know that. I need to know you won't abandon me. Graeme abandoned me in school, I was infatuated with him and he was just playing around, and he abandoned me again last month by not waiting for me to go back to England with him. I....I'm not sure how much more of that I can take, so if you're going to get tired of the sex soon and move on, please tell me now."  
Bruce didn't have to think about it. He pressed a kiss to Jan's forehead and looked him straight in the eye. "I'm not going to do that. I can't imagine ever getting tired of the sex but even if there wasn't any sex I still wouldn't do that. You're an incredible person, Jan. I've only known you a month but I feel closer to you than I've ever felt to anyone. And," he smiled, "I'm not just saying that because of what we just did."  
Jan smiled and Bruce felt it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "I feel the same way." he said softly, leaning in to kiss Bruce gently. "I don't quite know why, but I do."  
Bruce kissed him again, and again. "We shouldn't think too much about it, we should just enjoy it."  
"I'm ready to enjoy it." Jan's eyes twinkled and Bruce felt the long fingers slipping down over his stomach.

Bruce didn't get downstairs until after noon to do the jobs Butch asked him to take care of, but even as he worked at organizing the tools and cleaning up the work area his mind was constantly on Jan. For a soft spoken reserved Englishman, the blond guitarist was insatiable in bed and Bruce had finally found someone who's libido might possibly match his own. But that wasn't what was nagging at the back of Bruce's mind though. He had the almost frightening certainty he was falling for Jan. That he had already fallen for him, and fallen hard. Jan had gone to the library that afternoon but when he returned he poked his head into the garage, his backpack full of basic plumbing books.  
"Hey."  
Bruce looked up, his heart hammering the moment he heard that gentle voice. "Hey! Did you find what you needed?"  
"I think so. I'm going to go up and read through some of this. I was wondering if you'd mind if I cooked something special for supper."  
"I'm not sure how special anything cooked on a two-burner hot plate can be, but that's great." Bruce walked over to where Jan was still hovering near the door, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. "I'll be up in a couple of hours." Reaching up he captured Jan's mouth in what he intended to be just a peck but turned into a deep, passionate kiss.  
"Or maybe I'll be up sooner than a couple of hours." he practically growled when breaking the kiss.  
Jan laughed. "There's no hurry, I'll be there when you're finished here." The look in his eyes held a significant promise and Bruce finished his work as quickly as he could.  
It was after dark when he finally climbed up to their room but Jan had left the light on outside the door for him. When he stepped inside he was assaulted by delicious smells and saw that Jan had set the table with his mismatched china and had even found a flower somewhere, a deep maroon mum, that he'd put in an empty jelly jar at the center of the small table.  
Jan was at the tiny kitchen sink but turned with a smile. "Hey!" He greeted Bruce. "Go wash up, you're probably hungry."  
Walking to the bathroom Bruce saw that Jan had been reading his library books, two or three of them were lying on the couch, and he shook his head in wonder. Almost anyone else who had chanced upon a menial job like that would have just gone to work their first day clueless, but not Jan. He wanted to do well, and it spoke volumes about the kind of man he was. Every new detail he discovered about the Englishman made Bruce love him more and more.

When he emerged from the bathroom, clean and dressed in loose jogging pants and a clean tee shirt, he saw that Jan had served dinner. Bruce couldn't believe his eyes. Somehow with only two burners to work with, Jan had cooked them steaks and mashed potatoes.  
"Wow, this looks great. I don't know how you managed to cook this, you must be magic!"  
Jan looked a little embarrassed. "Don't say that until you've eaten some." he laughed. Before sitting across from Bruce, though, Jan reached into the mini fridge and withdrew a bottle of wine, pouring them each some in the only glasses Bruce owned, which were juice glasses.  
"Wine?" Bruce was shaking his head in wonder. "How did you manage that?"  
Jan shrugged "I still had a little money left from when I played downtown a couple of days ago. I don't think it's very good wine, but I guess I felt like.....well, like something important happened this morning. Something worth celebrating."  
Bruce felt a little choked up, though he couldn't explain why. "It is something important worth celebrating. And," he had started eating, "this food is really good!"  
The two finished their meal, chatting idly, but Bruce kept looking over at Jan, unable to believe how completely smitten he was over him. He was Bruce Bruce, he was known as a womanizer, a self-reliant guy who had virtually grown up on his own, and falling in love with another man was something he could never have foreseen. And even though this was San Francisco and the culture here was a bit more accepting of relationships like this, Bruce still wasn't sure of how to handle this change in his life. He had no idea how to determine how Jan felt about it. Jan was so easy going, quiet, and mellow that it was hard for Bruce to guess what the blonde was thinking. 

They stood hip-to-hip at the small sink washing the dishes together then Jan moved his books so they could sit together on the couch. They poured another glass of wine, which wasn't bad at all for inexpensive wine, and Jan settled in under Bruce's encircling arm .  
Bruce was a blunt, straightforward man and he wasn't afraid to say what he was thinking as he thanked Jan for making dinner. "You didn't have to go through all that trouble, you know. I know you wanted to look through these books." he gestured at the pile Jan had unceremoniously moved to the floor. "But I really appreciate it."  
Jan snuggled even closer. "I wanted to do something for you. This is the happiest I've been since I got to America four months ago."  
"It's the happiest I've been since I can't remember when." Bruce replied honestly.  
Jan raised his head from Bruce's shoulder to look up at him. "Really?"  
"Think about it," Bruce explained. "I'm finally getting off my dead ass and studying to learn a real trade, something I can make a good living doing. And now you're here, and you....well, you make me happy."  
Jan's eyes were dark with emotion as he returned Bruce's gaze. "I want to keep making you happy, Bruce. I know I may have to give up my dream of being a professional musician someday, I'm realistic about that, and I never thought I would find anything else that could make me feel like music does. Before I came here I had an electric guitar. I had to sell it to buy my plane ticket over here, but playing that guitar took me into another time and space. I don't know how to describe it but it transformed me somehow. And this morning when we were.......when we were making love, I felt that same way. "  
Bruce couldn't help but smile when Jan called what they had done 'making love' even though he seemed a little uncomfortable with the words.  
Jan smiled back. "What are you thinking that's making you look at me that way?"  
"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" Bruce felt a little uncertain.  
Jan nodded. "I always want you to tell me the truth."  
Bruce reached over and traced his fingertip along Jan's strong jaw and brushed across his lips. "I'm thinking I'm in love with you."  
Jan's eyes widened and he sat up straighter. "You're not just teasing me, are you?"  
Bruce shook his head. "No, I'm dead serious. I know it sounds crazy this soon, but....." his words were cut off by the kiss Jan planted on him.  
When Jan pulled away he was laughing softly but Bruce saw telltale moisture in his eyes. "It's not crazy, because I feel it too! And Bruce?'  
Bruce choked back the lump in his throat. "Yeah?"  
Jan's voice fell to a near whisper. "Would you make love to me tonight? I mean......all the way?" He looked nervous as he said the words, but there was also excitement there.  
Bruce felt his body respond before he could even form the words to answer, but he felt obligated to ask. "Are you sure? We don't have to rush into that."  
"I know," Jan was looking down, seeming a bit embarrassed, tracing his fingertips up and down Bruce's thigh, "but I was thinking about it all day, about how I want to feel like.....well, like we're joined."  
Bruce couldn't answer, the power of speech seemed to have abandoned him. All he could do was pull Jan into a kiss, a kiss that went on, growing deeper and more torrid by the second. He savored the taste of Jan's tongue entwined with his own, he felt every movement of Jan's hands and they closed around him and moved up his spine, and he could tell Jan was becoming as turned on as he was. The blonde had a way of moaning softly into their kisses that drove Bruce insane. Everything about him drove Bruce insane

Within minutes they were on Bruce's bed - their bed now - completely naked, hands and mouths exploring, becoming familiar with each other, learning what each of them liked. Jan could be ticklish if Bruce's touch was too light, he learned, and Jan in turn learned about a spot just behind Bruce's ear that, when licked, sent him into total oblivion. They took their time, they wanted to savor this. Neither of them were experienced at this and neither of them had been past a certain point with a man before. Bruce, being the bolder of the two, was the first to get so caught up in their passion he let his remaining reservations slip away and let his hand wander down, squeezing the perfect mounds of Jan's ass then daringly tracing his fingers lightly between them.  
"No one has ever touched me there before." Jan whispered against Bruce's neck.  
"Do you like how it feels?" Bruce was trailing his fingers there again, a little more firmly this time.  
Jan's breath caught. "Yeah....yeah it feels good. But......"  
"You're wondering if it's going to hurt, aren't you? I don't want to hurt you, Jan. If you're worried about it, we won't do it."  
"No....that's not it. I mean, yeah, I am a little nervous, but I still want to do this. And...," Jan detached himself from Bruce just long enough to reach to his jeans on the floor, "I bought this on the way home from the library."  
He held up a small tube of lubricant and Bruce couldn't hold back a laugh. Jan laughed too, looking a little abashed. "I told you I've been thinking about this all day."  
Bruce closed his arms around Jan again, kissing him soundly. "I was thinking about you all day too, but I didn't think we would get to this. At least, not so soon."  
"Is it too soon?" Jan sounded suddenly uncertain.  
"No, no," Bruce kissed him again, on the face and down his jaw, "I don't think so. I meant I didn't want to make you feel like I was rushing you."  
"You're not." Jan mumbled, his lips against Bruce's chest. "This has been building up since you brought me to stay here."  
"I think," Bruce had to pause to catch his breath as Jan's tongue flicked his nipple, "I think it's been building up since the night I first met you."  
Jan's only reply was a moan against Bruce's stomach and Bruce felt his hand slowly close around his hardness, followed a moment later by the soft warmth of his mouth. He had been wondering if Jan was always as highly sexed as he had seemed the day before or if he had only been that way then because he hadn't had sex in a while, but Bruce was coming to the conclusion that he was. He was almost shy at the beginning but once he was turned on his enthusiasm seemed to know no bounds, and Bruce was loving it.  
"Stop....," Bruce gasped, feeling the telltale signs of an orgasm building up in himself. "Stop, or this will be over too soon! Get up here so I can touch you."  
Jan seemed reluctant to stop what he was doing, pulling his mouth torturously slowly from Bruce and sliding up to his side to be instantly drawn into a kiss. Bruce's hand went to find Jan, earning a swift intake of breath followed by something close to a whine. "Oh, God, Bruce, I want you now!"  
Bruce maneuvered Jan onto his back, lying on top of him and feeling the burning heat of his arousal trapped between them. Jan was showering his neck and shoulders with kisses and Bruce groped for the lube, which had become lost in the mussed blankets. Locating it, still kissing Jan he managed to open it with one hand and coat his fingers with a thin layer. Jan already had his legs wrapped around Bruce's thighs and was moving against him, rocking slowly to cause the friction he desperately craved. He only jumped a little bit when he felt Bruce's slippery finger slip below his balls and trace around his opening.  
"You're sure?" Bruce felt he had to ask again.  
"Yes, yes, do it, please Bruce!" Jan sounded almost desperate so Bruce tentatively slipped one finger into his lover. Jan tensed for a second, then resumed his rocking motion, and Bruce applied more gel to his other fingers. Jan looked momentarily uncomfortable, but Bruce was going slow, being as gentle as he could even though he was dying to feel Jan's warmth around him.  
"Now..." Jan gasped, nipping at Bruce's shoulder. "I want you in me now!"  
Bruce complied. He knew he was well endowed, he didn't want to hurt Jan, but though Jan held his breath for a few moments he made no other indication of any pain.  
"Are you okay." Bruce whispered, tracing his tongue around Jan's ear in an effort to distract him for any discomfort.  
"Yeah....yeah, it's okay. Just.....just go slow, okay?"  
For an answer Bruce nipped at his neck and slid in further at the same time, not knowing if the groan Jan let out was from the bite or the breaching. Jan was panting, seemingly unable to catch his breath, but then he moved his hips up into Bruce, and Bruce took that as his cue. Their coupling was languid, very tender for two people in such a state of high arousal, and Bruce couldn't tear his eyes from Jan. Jan looked into his eyes the whole time, so many emotions chasing across his eyes that Bruce couldn't begin to fathom, but as his movements grew faster Bruce knew he was nearing his peak. Bruce knew there was a place inside a man which was supposed to be a nerve center, a spot where all the sensations of pleasure were multiplied, and he sought this by changing his angle.  
"Ahhh...." Jan cried out, arching up off the bed, and Bruce knew he had found the spot so he continued those movements until Jan cried out again, this time a long drawn moan, and Bruce felt the hot, sticky wetness of Jan's completion between them. Jan's eyes rolled then closed and Bruce felt a momentary concern, he saw tears glistening at the corners of his lovers eyes, but then Jan's eyes opened again and locked onto his own. There was no mistaking what he saw there, it was love.  
Bruce couldn't hold back his own orgasm any longer, he had been trembling with the effort and seeing that look in those gray eyes was too much. Clasping his hands tightly around Jan's lower back, he emptied himself into him. He was completely overwhelmed, his orgasm was like a force of nature and completely exhausted him. He collapsed against Jan's hot, sticky body and managed to summon up the energy to place a soft kiss on Jan's lips.

It was some time before either man spoke, they lay side by side entangled, sated and spent. Janick's head lay on Bruce's shoulder and every few seconds Bruce felt him place a soft kiss on his neck. He stroked back the unruly blonde curls and kissed Jan's forehead.  
"We should probably go and take a shower."  
"Mmmm hmmmm," Jan agreed, not wanting to move.  
"Come on, I'll wash your hair for you." Bruce suggested, thinking as he said it that those were words he would never have anticipated saying to anyone in his life. Jan looked up at him with a smile and they slowly got up, going to the shower. The shower stall in the room was tiny with barely enough room for them but neither of them minded, in fact they preferred it that way. Once clean and dressed again Jan sat on the couch, fluffing his long hair in an attempt to dry it, and Bruce sat next to him.  
"The guys will be expected us down at Pete's." It was still quite early, not quite nine o'clock.  
"Okay, we can go down there. You don't sound like you want to, though."  
Bruce hesitated, then realized he had no reason to be anything but frank with Jan. "It's probably silly but I'm just wondering if they'll notice that things are different between you and me."  
Jan stopped, threw his hair back over his shoulders, and looked over at Bruce. "It isn't written on our faces, there's no reason anyone would notice anything." Then he paused. "They would treat you different if they found out, wouldn't they?"  
Bruce shook his head. "I'm not sure what they would do. They might ostracize us, they might make fun of us. I just don't know."  
Jan placed his palm softly on Bruce's cheek . "Then we'll be careful. I'm already an outsider but they're your friends, I don't want to be the cause of you losing them."  
"If I lost them because of who I'm in love with, then they aren't friends worth having." He leaned his face against Jan's hand then kissed it, taking it and kissing each calloused finger.  
"Still," Jan's voice was soft with understanding, "there's no need for them to know." He was silent for a bit, his fingers still threaded through Bruce's own. "Some people in school suspected Graeme and I were....more than friends. We got picked on and called names sometimes. We were always able to laugh it off but that was teenage stuff, they were only school kids. It would be a lot more serious with grown men and it's a chance we shouldn't take."  
In the end they did walk the few blocks to Pete's and no one seemed to notice anything different in their demeanor. They played a few games of pool, which Jan was very good at, and had a couple beers while Barry talked to Jan about the job he would be staring Monday. Pete wasn't licensed to sell alcohol and wasn't supposed to allow it on the premises, but he always turned a blind eye when someone sneaked in a six pack. Bruce had to make a conscious effort not to stare at Jan as he leaned over the pool table to make his shot, if he allowed himself to look at that perfect ass he knew something would be certain to show in his eyes.  
Bruce and Jan spent the next day, Sunday, in their room and it felt comfortingly domestic. Jan was thumbing through his plumbing books and Bruce was studying for the first test in his mechanics class, but they sat together on the couch, Bruce reclining against the end and Jan sort of seated between his legs as they read. Bruce didn't realize that Jan had stopped reading until the other man spoke.  
"They're holding auditions tomorrow downtown for a guitarist for one of the bigger local bands. I won't be able to go, I'll be working."  
"Would you rather go to the audition? Maybe you could give Barry some kind of excuse and start work the next day instead."  
Jan was already shaking his head. "No, no. I can't do that. I've been to at least a dozen of these auditions anyway since I got here and have never even been called back for another listen. The job is more reliable, at least I'll be making some money."  
Bruce sensed that this conflict had been bothering Jan, and he could understand that. He stroked his hand through his lovers hair, unable to say anything to help beyond "I'm sorry."  
Jan turned and gave him a quick smile. "It's okay. I was just thinking out loud. I know I'm lucky to have this plumbing job."  
"But you're a good guitarist! You have to keep auditioning!" Since moving in Jan had started bringing his guitar home with him rather than leaving it safely stored at The Grind the way he had when he was homeless. Bruce had heard him play several times, it seemed almost as a form of relaxation for Jan. He would close his eyes, lean his head to one side, and let his fingers flow over the strings in a way that was so beautiful it amazed Bruce even before he admitted to himself how attracted he was to Jan.  
"I will." Jan leaned his head back against Bruce's chest. "I will just have to go to auditions that are held on evenings or weekends. I would have a better chance if I still had my Strat."  
Jan had told Bruce about the Fender Stratocaster he had in England but had to sell. Bruce made himself a promise then and there to somehow get Jan another one. Maybe for Christmas? He didn't know how he would manage it, it was already October and he was already in debt for his classes, but somehow he would try to find a way. Then he realized he was making plans for a future with a Jan. Christmas was short term future, true, but it dawned on him that now that he had Jan in his life he couldn't imagine being without him.

The following couple of weeks saw the two men getting used to being in a relationship and becoming more comfortable with one another. Bruce knew he wasn't as tidy as Jan and Jan knew he was less practical and more of a dreamer than Bruce. Bruce knew he snored whereas Jan was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning in his sleep. These were things every new couple had to adjust to and could have caused conflicts but never seemed to in this case. The two of them seemed to flow together, one making up for the other's weaker points naturally without it ever being an issue. It was the same with their love life - Jan seemed to prefer to receive and Bruce to give and there was no conflict there either. The passion the two were discovering for one another was growing by leaps and bounds, their sex drives complimented one another perfectly and there were days when three or four couplings wasn't unusual for them.

Jan didn't seem to mind his new job, he was so naturally easygoing that being required to fetch and carry for others all day didn't outwardly bother him, but Bruce felt a little concern. Though the money he brought in was minimal it definitely helped but Bruce knew he missed at least two more guitarist auditions. Jan didn't say anything but Bruce saw the postings circled in the paper. Worse yet, it had been several days since Jan had even had his acoustic out of its case. He kept it stashed beneath the bed, space was so limited in the room, and it was obvious that it hadn't been touched. He hadn't even played at The Grind recently. After Graeme left there was no more Spirit as a duo and management told Jan the day that he picked up his guitar that his popularity there had diminished to the point they didn't need him. The club was changing its format to a more new-wave punk sound and Jan's intricate rock guitar solos weren't fitting in.

Bruce worried over this at work for a couple of days before bringing it up to Jan. He usually got off work at four now so he could make it to his class by six whereas Jan usually worked until at least five and sometimes later if there was an emergency plumbing job someplace. But there were no classes on Friday nights so that night when Jan came up the stairs he found Bruce seated on the couch with the guitar in his hands, strumming and trying to remember the basic chords he learned in music class at one of the schools he went to.

Jan stopped short in the doorway, then smiled as Bruce looked up. “Bruce! You can play?”  
“God, no!” Bruce laughed, putting the instrument aside and going to greet Jan with a kiss. “I learned the major chords once, I don’t remember where, and I was trying to remember them.” He clasped his arms around Jan’s shoulders and kissed him soundly. “It’s not like you’ve been playing much lately, so I might as well.”  
Jan shook his head with a sigh. “It doesn’t seem like I have time for much of anything these days.”  
He did look tired. He removed the canvas jacket with the plumbing company logo and tossed it across a kitchen chair, sinking down on the couch next to Bruce and running his fingers through his hair. Bruce pulled him close and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.  
"Kick back for awhile, I made us something to eat."  
Jan opened his eyes, raising his head from the back of the couch to look at Bruce. "You cooked?!"  
Bruce laughed. "Don't look so shocked, I can cook a little. It's just spaghetti, but I bought some fresh garlic bread to go with it. Don't you dare get up," he held his hand up in a 'stop' motion as Jan started to stand up to help him. "All I ask is that after dinner maybe you can play a few tunes for me, okay?"  
Jan smiled fondly, his eyes tender as he looked up at Bruce. "It's a deal!"  
Watching Jan play later as they sat side by side on the bed, Bruce could almost see him transform from the exhausted man who had walked in the door into an artist, a poet who used musical notes as his words, and he saw the weariness visibly fall away from him. His face took on the look Bruce remembered from the first time he saw him play that night at The Grind, a trance-like expression that showed that he wasn't really present, his mind and his soul were being carried away by the music to someplace where everything was beautiful and free. The love Bruce felt for Jan while watching him play was like a physical presence in his chest, a glowing ball of light and warmth.  
Bruce knew he must have been staring dreamy-eyed at Jan when the last notes were played and Jan opened his eyes to look at him. "What? You're looking at me strange."  
"It's only...." Bruce had to swallow to continue, his voice falling to a near whisper, "you look so at peace when you play."  
Jan looked a little self-conscious. "That was a slow song. I wouldn't look at peace if I were on my Strat shredding out some Ritchie Blackmore riffs."  
Bruce laughed. "Maybe not, but you would look just as beautiful."  
Jan laughed out loud at that. "Beautiful? No one has ever accused me of being beautiful." He lay the guitar back in it's case and slid it under the bed.  
"That's only because no one has loved you as much as I do." Bruce said solemnly. It was becoming easier and easier for him to speak like this to Jan, to lay his heart bare because he knew Jan would never make fun of him or mock him for it.  
Jan returned to his place at Bruce's side and wrapped his arms around him. "Then love really is blind. But that's okay, because I see the beauty in you, too. You act so tough and macho but you are a sweet, gentle soul and I'm lucky to have you."  
Bruce tried to hide the rush of emotion he felt but he did a piss-poor job of it and Jan kissed him, one of the soft, tender kisses he used when he was feeling emotional. It became more torrid, though, when Bruce increased the pressure, invading Jan's mouth with his tongue and drinking in the scent and the taste of him. Jan moaned low, moving to half-sit on Bruce's lap and applying deliberate pressure to Bruce's burgeoning hard-on by wiggling his butt against him.  
"You never get enough, do you?" Bruce teased.  
"Of you? No, and I never will." Jan muttered, working his nimble fingers down Bruce's spine while he kissed along his jaw line, brushing the long chestnut hair aside. They had both been making an effort not to mark one another, it would raise too many questions that they didn't feel they were ready to answer should any of the guys at the pool hall notice an unexplained hickey. Chris had been nagging Bruce to go on a double date with him and his girlfriend, insisting that her best friend was 'perfect' for him. No one seemed to question Jan's lack of a girlfriend but they didn't know him well yet and Bruce knew it was only a matter of time before they began to wonder about it.

Bruce's musings scattered like the wind when he felt the warmth of Jan's tongue tracing his ear and down to his collarbone at the same time as his fingers were creeping under the hem of his shirt. The first few times they made love he wondered just what it was about this man, how he could get him so turned on so fast, but now he stopped over thinking it and just enjoyed it. Jan was less experienced sexually than he was, he knew, but there was an innate, inner sensuality to him. He oozed sex appeal merely by walking across the room, and the things they did in bed every night completely blew his mind. Jan seemed to know instinctively know exactly what to do to turn Bruce into a rutting animal and Jan thrived on it, the hesitancy he showed at the beginning of their relationship completely gone now. Bruce lay back on the couch when Jan pushed on his shoulders then climbed across him, straddling his hips, trailing kisses down his neck and tracing his tongue along the collar of Bruce's tee shirt.  
"You have to let me have some fun too," Bruce murmured, nipping lightly at the smooth white skin of Jan's shoulder. He grabbed Jan's slim hips and pulled him down tight to his crotch, driving his hip up against Jan's ass. Jan ground himself against the hardness, making circles with his hips as he sat up straight and tugged the bottom of Bruce's shirt up so he could discard it.  
"Your hairy body really turns me on," Jan murmured, letting himself get lost in the rhythm they created against one another and Bruce reached up and un-did the snap and zipper of Jan's jeans. Unlike himself, Jan usually wore underwear but of the most skimpy kind, and Bruce worked the pants down as far as he could over Jan's hips until Jan briefly stood up to remove them completely, taking off his work shirt as well.  
He started to remove the underwear too but Bruce stopped him. "No, leave them on for a bit. I like how you look in them, practically bursting out of them like that!" He was surprised by Jan's anatomy at their first encounter, he was what Bruce called 'a grower, not a shower', his equipment looking rather unimpressive until he became excited. He was excited now and climbed back over Bruce, who had taken the opportunity to slip out of his own clothes. They lay kissing deeply, getting lost in each other, exploring one another's mouths with their tongues even as they explored their bodies with their hands. Bruce groped and massaged Jan's erection through the thin cotton of his underwear, enjoying the feeling of the soft material sliding against the skin beneath and how Jan was reacting by moaning, gasping, and grinding himself against Bruce's questing hand.  
"Ride me, Jan." Bruce said, unable to wait any longer, and Jan immediately kicked off the underwear and stood to retrieve the lubricant from its hiding spot in the small stand by the bed. At the first touch of the lube-slippery fingers on his shaft Bruce bucked his hips, unable to stop himself, and Jan smiled, taking the opportunity to tease him by stroking him slow and deliberately. Bruce loved watch Jan's face as they made love, he wore an expression similar to the dreamy look he got while playing his guitar but there was a subtle difference, a look of urgency, and whenever he looked into Bruce's eyes there was a look of intense emotion. They locked eyes when Jan slowly mounted him, Bruce couldn't have torn his eyes away if he tried. Jan had been tired when he arrived home earlier but he was rejuvenated now, moving slow and sensual on Bruce, leaning to exchange deep kisses while varying the rhythm of his hips until the sensations escalated and they got completely lost in the building tensions. They came almost simultaneously, both crying out, and Jan collapsed against Bruce’s chest. These sessions took a lot out of him, Bruce noticed, both physically and emotionally and sometimes it took him several minutes before he seemed to be able to function normally again. The sheer amount of emotion Jan displayed when they made love had been both incredibly arousing and a little alarming to Bruce at first, he put his heart and soul into it and it left him completely drained.  
Bruce stroked the long hair spread across his chest, combing through it with his fingers, letting Jan recover at his own pace. But then Jan would recover, showering Bruce with kisses that were gladly returned, sometimes leading to another session.

Jan seemed to grow more accustomed to the schedule of his new job and he and Bruce fell into a sort of routine as the autumn progressed. When Bruce returned from his classes Jan almost always had something for him to eat and lots of kisses and affection to greet him with. The two went to Pete's two or three times a week now, and always on Friday nights when Bruce had no class. There was a subtle but noticeable shift in the dynamics of the little group of friends who hung out at the pool hall. Barry and Jan got along well, Barry being a quiet man who rarely had a problem with anyone, but Bruce sensed that Paul, who had been his closest friend for over five years, was distancing himself from him. One blustery evening when Paul went to the restroom Bruce followed .  
Paul looked up in surprise when Bruce took his stance at the urinal next to his.  
"Hey." Bruce greeted him. When they finished their business Paul washed his hands and made to leave but Bruce put his hand on his shoulder, stopping him.  
"Hey, Paul, man, is everything okay with you? You haven't had much to say recently."  
Paul turned and Bruce was surprised by the look in his eyes. "Of course I haven't, I never even see you anymore!"  
Bruce was taken aback. "What are you talking about? I was here just two nights ago."  
"Yeah, with Janick. You're always with him these days, it's always Jan this or Jan that whenever we do talk!"  
"Well, he is staying with me, naturally we hang out together."  
"Yeah!" Anger and resentment were obvious on Paul's face now. "You hang out together! And I wonder just what else you two do together."  
Bruce felt a flicker of alarm. He thought he and Jan had been very careful, very discreet. "What is that supposed to mean?" It was all he could think of to say.  
"Oh, come on, Bruce! How long have we known each other? Five years, six years? Don't you think I recognize the signs? You look at him exactly like you always looked at women you wanted to fuck, only you keep looking at him like that. I've seen the way you touch his shoulder when you stand near him. Hell, I even saw you squeeze his ass once!"  
Bruce had no memory of doing that in public but wasn't surprised. It was very hard for him to keep his hands off Jan.  
"Well?" Bruce folded his arms in front of him. "So you think I'm a fag! And now you don't want to be my friend anymore, is that it?"  
Paul sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Listen, man, you know I'm not like that. This is San Francisco, half the people I know are gay. And I know you aren't anyway, I've seen you with too many women over the years. But do you realize how long it's been since I've been over to your place, or you've been over to my apartment? It isn't me who's ending this friendship, Bruce."  
Bruce was stunned, he hadn't even thought of any of this, he had been too wrapped up in Janick. He was contrite. "I...I'm sorry. I never thought about it, I guess. "  
Paul's expression softened. "I know, and I'm sorry I jumped your shit about it. I like Jan, I really do. And I don't care what you two in the privacy of your room. But I gotta warn you, some of the guys around here might feel differently."  
"Those new guys, you mean?" Bruce had been noticing there were four or five new faces amongst the regulars at Pete's over the past several weeks.  
Paul nodded. "You know how we always laughed about it when old Pete called us a gang? Well, these guys really are a gang, and they're mean. They don't bother us, there are too many of us and they know better, but I've heard them laughing and joking about how they beat up a fag in an alley one night. The way they talked, it wasn't the first time they've done something that. They brag about beating up gays, blacks, Asians, anyone who's different than them. Watch your backs, you and Jan both. Be more careful how you act around each other, okay?"  
"I'll remember that." Bruce nodded. He hadn't liked the look of the new guys himself. "And I'm sorry, you know, if I've been ignoring you lately. You can come over to my place any time you want, you know what."  
Paul smiled. "Yeah, I know. I was just feeling a little left out, I guess. You....and Janick....can come over to my place any time too."  
Bruce's old friends did, indeed, seem to like Janick. It was hard not to like him, he was fun to be around yet he would sit and talk seriously if anyone felt like doing that as well. On top of that, he was as good a pool player as any of them and better than most.  
Bruce mentioned his talk with Paul in passing to Janick as the two walked home that night. At first Jan was a little worried. "You mean he know about us? That we're a couple?"  
"Yeah, but Paul is cool. If I start groping you in public, though, stop me!"  
Jan laughed. "All right, but you'll have to make up for it later!"

The two men did make an effort to socialize more with the others in their group of friends after that, however. Jan saw Barry at work but unless the two garages they worked for had some business-related interaction, Bruce only saw Paul at Pete's. Bruce's classes were going very well, he not only had an aptitude for mechanics, he found anything related to airplanes interesting and aspired to someday learn to work on engines of bigger planes. Maybe, just maybe, someday even take pilot lessons himself. He was daydreaming about that one evening when they were gathered at Pete's, leaning against the wall by the jukebox going over the test he was studying for in his head and letting his thoughts drift, when a sudden commotion across the room brought him abruptly to the present. Jan and Barry had been playing pool against anyone who challenged them and, as usual, winning but it appeared that they had been challenged by one of the newcomers, a beefy man with a shaved head and multiple tattoos.  
As Bruce tried to see through the dozen or so people between them, he saw someone from the new gang suddenly grab Jan by his long hair and physically jerk him backwards, throwing him against one of the tables.  
"Fucking pussy-ass faggot!" Bruce heard the man shout. "You cheated, you motherfucker, and I'm not paying you a penny!" Gambling on the games was against Pete's policy but, as with many of the rules, he was lenient when it came to his regulars. Bruce was already pushing his way through the others when he saw the man take a swing at Jan. Jan was nimble, he ducked away, and for the first time ever Bruce saw his lover angry.  
"I can't make you pay off the bet, but I did not cheat." Jan spat out.  
Barry stood up next to Jan to defend him but by then Bruce was there, unceremoniously grabbing the back of the guy's collar and pulling him away from where he was trying to corner Jan against the table.  
"You raise a hand against him one more time, you son of a bitch, and I'll mop the floor up with you!"  
There were two or three other newcomers present that night and they slowly circled around the scene. Paul, Chris, and their friends stood warily by, some grabbing pool cues to defend themselves if worse came to worse.  
Old Pete came out from around the counter. He was in his sixties but nothing intimidated him. "If you're going to fight, take it outside. Nobody is busting up my place!"  
The man tore himself loose from Bruce's grip on his collar and turned on him, ignoring Pete completely. "What, are you afraid we're going to mess up your butt buddy's pretty face? Don't worry, if we knock his teeth out he'll be able to suck your dick better!"  
Bruce let fly with a punch before the man even got his last word out, connecting directly with his nose. Blood flowed freely and the man's friends closed in, one of them tackling Bruce and punching him in the stomach hard enough to take his breath away. Paul immediately broke a pool cue over that man's head, and a free-for-all commenced. Jan was a gentle soul but seeing Bruce being hit had infuriated him and he took his own pool cue, attempting to get in a blow against one of the others. Chris and Barry each took one of the intended victim's arms, though, and bodily hauled him to the door, literally kicking him out to the sidewalk where he fell face first on the concrete. He got up, dazed, took one look at the fight taking place within, and took off down the block.  
Two more of the newcomers were still inside, though, and even as they took swings at Bruce and his friends they shouted a steady stream of abuse.  
"Motherfucking fags! Every last one of you should be shot in the head! Why don't all you fairy queers find yourselves an island in the middle of nowhere and fuck each other's brains out and leave us decent folk alone!"  
"Decent folk!" Old Pete wasn't involved in the fight but he was shouting. "You call yourselves decent folk! None of you had ever better show your face in my place of business again!"  
Meanwhile Bruce received another direct hit, this one to his face, and Jan came up behind the assailant, looping his arms over the man's head and pressing against his throat with the pool cue. He didn't say anything but he bared his teeth and pressed the cue against the man's windpipe. Bruce's other friends had by now taken care of the two remaining gang members, one was on the floor unconscious and the other being pummeled by both Chris and Barry .  
A sudden loud, clicking sound caused everyone to pause. Old Pete stood in front of the counter with a shotgun cocked and ready. "Enough! I've called the cops and all of you - and I mean all of you - had better be gone before they get here! And you!" He pointed to the man Jan was choking, who seemed to be the leader of the bunch, "if you or any of your type ever show your face here again I'll use this gun! It ain't here just for looks!"  
Jan released his hold on the man and the guy stood rubbing his throat, breathless. "So you're a faggot too, old man?"  
To everyone's complete surprise, it was Janick who punched the guy square in the eye. "He said get out!"  
The men left, reviving their unconscious buddy, but mumbling threats and insults all the way.  
"Boys," Pete put the gun down on the counter, "I'd make myself scarce if I was you, the cops really are on their way. Don't worry, I know who those bastards are and I know their names. They're the only ones I'm going to put in the police report. Now, get! Go home! I'll see you all later!"  
The seven or eight men still present slowly filtered out. So far there were no police sirens so they didn't hurry, stopping to pat Pete on the back and apologize to the old man. Paul and Jan helped Bruce stand upright, his stomach hurt and he felt like a rib was cracked, not to mention the fact one eye was starting to swell closed. By now sirens could be heard in the distance so Pete ushered the three out the back door into the windy, rainy darkness.  
"Do you need to go to hospital, Bruce?" Jan asked softly, breaking the silence.  
"No," Bruce gasped. "It isn't anything serious, I'll be fine."  
Paul was on Bruce's other side. He'd taken a few blows himself but nothing bad. The three of them walked a couple of blocks in the opposite direction from where the sirens were sounding before Jan spoke again.  
"I'm sorry."  
"You didn't cheat, Janick." Paul said. "I was watching the entire game."  
"No, no....not about that. But you never had trouble there before I came, have you?"  
Both Paul and Bruce were slow to answer because it was true, there hadn't been trouble before. Finally Paul spoke.  
"Times are different now, though. Gangs like that are becoming more common, it would only have been a matter of time."  
"No, they needed a target." Jan said "Me. I've been through it before, when I lived in Newcastle before I came here."  
"Through what?" Bruce hadn't heard anything about this before.  
"Being branded as a queer. People look at me with my long hair and they notice that I never have a girlfriend, so they draw their own conclusions."  
"Fuck them!" Paul grumbled, sounding genuinely angry. "People should mind their own business!"  
They had walked in the general direction of Paul's apartment and he had to leave them then, so Bruce and Jan walked on in silence, circling around toward their own room. Jan felt Bruce's hand slip into his own. "None of this was your fault, you know. Bastards like that will find any excuse to cause trouble." After a pause he spoke again. "What happened in Newcastle?"  
Jan was reluctant to reply but after a moment he did. "I was sharing a flat with Graeme, we were trying to start a band. That's where the name Spirit came from, we were going to call ourselves White Spirit. Anyway, we left the pub one night and were jumped."  
"Were you hurt?" Bruce asked.  
"Not badly, no. A few bruises. They were just trying to drive us away, get us out of town. The ironic thing is by that time Graeme and I were no longer.....involved. We hadn't been for quite some time." 

  

Bruce sank down onto the couch, grimacing slightly because of his bruised ribs, and Janick went to the mini-fridge and pulled out a cold beer but instead of opening it he gently laid the cold bottle alongside Bruce's darkening eye. Bruce winced but submitted himself to Jan's nursing. Luckily the skin wasn't broken and the bruise would face in a few days.  
"Here, hold this." Jan placed Bruce's hand on the cold bottle to hold it in place and proceeded to pull up the bottom of Bruce's shirt and gently run his fingers over his ribs.  
"Jan, stop! That tickles and besides, I told you I'm fine. I've been in worse fights."  
"I can well believe that! But if your rib is cracked you should bind it." He continued probing and though he was sore he also enjoyed the feeling of Jan's long nimble fingers. He smiled down at his lover's look of concentration. He sensed that somehow Jan felt partly responsible for the nights brawl but he was at a loss as to what to do about it. He didn't understand why Jan would feel that way, though. He reached out and ran his hand through the silky hair and Jan smiled up at him, then raised to sit at his side.  
"I don't think your ribs are cracked or broken, but be careful lying on that side, okay?"  
Bruce was still stroking Jan's hair. "You're not, you know."  
"Not what?"  
"Queer, or gay, or whatever you want to call it. You've been with women, right?"  
"Yeah....a few times."  
"We're bisexual, Jan. And nobody has any right to judge either of us. So please get that worried look off your face, okay?"  
Jan smiled again. "I'm not worried, exactly. I just don't want any trouble or to cause any trouble."  
In spite of his bruised ribs Bruce pulled the other man in for a hug, his heart teeming with love for the sweet, gentle Englishman. Jan's lips pressed to his in a tender kiss but Bruce cupped his hand on the back of Jan's head, deepening the kiss and parting his lips with his questing tongue. When Bruce's hands slipped down the blonde's back and his fingertips crept beneath the waistband of his jeans, though, Jan drew away.  
"No, you're hurt. Tonight let me take care of you. Come here,"  
He caught Bruce's hand and led him over to the bed, switching off the overhead light so the only light was from the dim bedside lamp. He made Bruce lie back and proceeded to tease him with slow, torturous kisses and touches, slowly removing his clothes piece by piece. He was very careful around the bruised ribs and around Bruce's swollen eye, touching him there with reverent kisses as light as air. Bruce felt both humbled and incredibly aroused, especially as he watched the expression on Jan's face.  
It was easy to see that Jan was getting completely lost in what he was doing, taken away to a place here he and Bruce were the only two people in existence. By the time Jan reached his waist Bruce was breathless but felt compelled to lie still, simply letting his fingers slip through Jan's hair and across his smooth shoulders. Jan's dexterous fingers unfastened Bruce's jeans and Bruce obligingly raised his hips so Jan could slip the jeans off and discard them. He was still going infuriatingly slow, running his hands up and down Bruce's muscular things and following with open-mouthed kisses but stopping just short of his crotch.  
"God, Jan, please....." Bruce finally groaned, unable to keep silent any longer, and he was rewarded by a mischievous smile, Jan's eyes sparkling in the dim light. Nevertheless the teasing continued for a few more minutes, Jan was enjoying himself immensely and Bruce knew it. Finally Bruce felt a warm hand cup his balls followed by an even warmer tongue and he felt like reaching down and grabbing Jan, sore ribs or not. A few seconds later, though, the tongue found it's way to his aching shaft and he was enveloped in a moist, velvety mouth.  
"Take off your clothes, Jan. I want to feel your skin against mine." Bruce urged, and Jan quickly obliged. Soon Bruce felt Jan's own excitement hot against his calf and as Jan returned to his task of pleasuring him, Bruce moved subtly against it.  
Jan moaned at the friction, sending vibrations to Bruce's very core, and Bruce increased the pressure of his leg against Jan as he felt his own orgasm starting to build. Jan held his hips down with his palms so all Bruce could do was arch his back and cry out sharply when he finally exploded, and a second later he felt the hot spurts of Jan's own climax on his legs and thighs as the blonde sighed, not yet removing his mouth from Bruce.  
As he usually did, Jan fell against Bruce, depleted of even the energy to move. Bruce's heart was hammering, the waves of pleasure still weakly coursing through him, and he relaxed the fingers he had unconsciously tightened in Jan's hair, stroking the tangled locks.  
"You're a tease, Janick Gers," he managed to whisper hoarsely. "you're a natural-born tease and I love you!"  
Jan stirred, looking up at Bruce and pressing a soft kiss beneath his navel. "I love you too, Bruce," he said simply. 

Bruce and Jan stayed away from Pete's place for a while after the fight in case the troublemakers were still lurking around. They were each busy anyway. Bruce was studying complicated mechanical diagrams in textbooks during his every spare minute and Janick worked long hours at his job. Autumn ran on into early winter and the San Francisco weather turned cool and damp. It seemed if it wasn't raining outright, it was foggy and gray. Jan would often play his guitar softly as Bruce studied late into the evenings after his class and Bruce found it helped him to focus, he was the top student in his class and he knew he would be eligible for an apprenticeship position once his course was finished in late spring. An apprenticeship would be a paying job at an aircraft maintenance facility where he would work hands-on with certified mechanics. After a certain amount of time, he could take the certification test himself. That would mean more money and a much brighter future. A future with Jan. He was unable to even imagine life without Jan now and often, as he walked or took the bus to and from class, he daydreamed about how it would it would be. A bigger, better apartment. Jan auditioning and getting a gig as a guitarist with a local band. For the first time in his memory, Bruce felt he was accomplishing something, like he had a purpose in life.  
Christmas was only a matter of weeks away and Bruce was sharply reminded of it when holiday decorations began showing up all over town. For the past several weeks he had been putting aside every spare dollar he possibly could, which wasn't much considering he was still paying off his debt to Butch, his boss, for the school loan. He was determined, however, to buy Jan an electric guitar and small amp for Christmas. He knew he couldn't afford anything new so he began checking the second-hand stores and pawn shops, though so far he hadn't found anything suitable. Bruce was also a little concerned that Jan's first Christmas away from home would be difficult for him, and he was determined to do anything he could to help him through that.  
Eventually the two began going back to Pete's upon learning that the trouble making gang had stopped coming around. The atmosphere was a little more subdued now, however. Chris had gotten engaged, two or three of the others had steady girlfriends or other outside obligations. They were all past the stage now where they had nothing better to do than hang around, drink beer, and play pool. And, oddly enough, Bruce found he didn't miss the old days. They were all still good friends and, Bruce was relieved to note, they did not treat him or Jan differently even now that their relationship was pretty much an open secret. One or two would become uncomfortable if he got too affectionate with Jan around them, so they were both careful about that.  
Bruce quietly enlisted Paul to help him try to locate a guitar for Jan and one evening in late November Paul gave him a tip. He saw a nice Fender and small amp in a pawn shop while on a parts run for his boss that day, he told Bruce, and gave him the address. The price was at the top of his budget but he could manage it and he wanted to slip out to buy it before someone else beat him too it. The trouble, however, was that the next day was Saturday and he and Jan usually spent Saturdays at home, with him studying and Jan either reading or playing his acoustic, recuperating from the fifty-some hours he often worked during the week. He didn't know how he would manage to slip away, especially since Jan was being particularly amorous that morning and kept Bruce in bed until nearly noon. Not that Bruce had any complaints, in fact he could think of little beyond the sensation of Jan's touch that morning. The two eventually made their way to the shower, sharing it as they almost always did these days.  
"I have to run out for a bit this afternoon." Bruce said, leaning into the shower cubicle to turn on the water. Jan's hand was on his ass, circling gently. Bruce looked back and raised an eyebrow. "What, are you ready for another round already?"  
Jan smiled. "Maybe I am. Do you have some work to do for Butch this afternoon?"  
"Y....yeah," Bruce nodded. It was a plausible story, Bruce did occasionally have to run errands for his boss on Saturdays as a condition of the money Butch had fronted him, but still he didn't like deceiving Jan. Jan's warm hand was very distracting, however, and as they both stepped under the water he pulled Jan to him for an ardent kiss. It was no surprise for him to feel Jan was half hard again already, the blonde had a sex drive to rival his own, and within minutes he had Jan's chest pressed to the wall while he took him for the third time that morning....or was it the fourth?  
"You are so hot," He murmured into his ear, teeth nipping at the pale skin of his neck, "I wish I could stay here all afternoon just to see how much it would take to wear you out!"  
Jan's breathing was ragged and he was making soft grunts with every movement Bruce made but he still managed to gasp "You....you would wear out first, Brucie!"  
Bruce seized the slim hips in front of him and made a quick, abrupt thrust. "You think so, huh? Maybe tomorrow we should spend the day finding out!" Even as he was speaking his hand was creeping around in front of Jan, grasping him and bringing him to completion just moments before he reached his own climax. Jan leaned back, his entire weight on Bruce, and Bruce kissed and nuzzled his neck until he regained strength, hoping in the back of his mind that the hot water didn't run out and suddenly douse them in an icy cold spray. 

Fortunately it didn't and within an hour Bruce was dressed and half-running down the block to catch the bus to the address Paul had given him. Two hours later he was furtively returning home from the bus stop, a guitar case slung across his back and a small amp in his hand, taking the alleyway so Jan wouldn't accidentally see him out the window of their room. Stashing his prizes in the storeroom of the garage, he congratulated himself on a successful venture. He had to fork over a few extra bucks for a lead cord and a set of spare strings but even though he may have to forego treating himself to a few bottles of Coke until next payday, he was thrilled with his purchase. It was even better than Paul had described, a black Fender Stratocaster several years old but very lightly used and Bruce knew just enough about guitars to verify that it was in great condition. 

Several nights later the two met up at Pete's. They had started doing this when the colder weather arrived so Bruce wouldn't have to walk all the way home after class only to venture out again to spend some time with their friends at the pool hall. Everyone pitched in to have pizza delivered and after they ate Bruce filled Paul in on the purchase of the guitar while Jan and Barry teamed up to play pool against the others. Paul had taken to teasing Bruce about how he seemed willing to do anything for Jan but Bruce protested but couldn't really feel any rancor because, in truth, he was willing to do anything for the blonde. Paul then filled Bruce in on his own latest female conquest but Bruce didn't feel a bit of envy. He only had to look over at Jan as he leaned over the table to make a shot, his perfect ass encased in skin tight jeans, and feel like the luckiest man in the room.

It was on one of these evenings when Bruce arrived at Pete's to find Jan hadn't yet arrived, which was unusual. Jan got out of work three hours before Bruce got home from his class and was usually waiting for him when they arranged to meet at the pool hall, almost always with some takeaway food for Bruce from a nearby fast food joint.  
"Jan hasn't been here?" Bruce asked Pete.  
"Nope." The old man shook his head with his customary scowl. Paul and Chris came over to join him at the snack counter, Chris with his new fiancee in tow, but none of them had seen Jan either. Bruce shrugged it off at first, but after an hour had passed he began to worry just a bit.  
Paul noticed his distraction. "Hey, just go home and see if he's there, man. He probably just fell asleep or something after work."  
Knowing he wasn't going to rest easy until he did, Bruce left. It was six blocks to the room he and Jan shared and by now it was after ten at night. The route passed a few small bars and a couple of up-and-coming night clubs that had recently opened but Bruce was lost in thought, tuning out the faint strains of music as people came and went from the clubs, until something caught the edge of his attention. It took a moment for it to penetrate his brain and by then he was past the doorway, but he'd heard a snatch of music that sounded niggling familiar. He couldn't hear it now, a group of people had gone into the club and the door closed behind them, but he had an uneasy feeling so he turned back and opened the door.  
At first he couldn't see anything. This was one of the type of clubs that had started gaining popularity recently, taking over dingy, grungy old buildings and promoting that atmosphere - informal, even slovenly, but promoting live music from a variety of bands every night of the week. It was noisy and crowded and a bouncer approached, asking Bruce for a three dollar cover charge to come inside.  
"I'm not staying, I'm just looking for a friend." Bruce improvised.  
The bouncer relented but warned him he couldn't go past the entrance area without paying. Then Bruce heard it again, a strain of guitar music he was intimately familiar with. He had heard Jan play this song a dozen times on his acoustic and Jan told him he wrote the tune, only this time it was being played on an electric.  
A few seconds later the crowd shifted and Bruce gasped out loud. It was Jan! He was on the stage at the front of the club with three other guys Bruce didn't recognize and one he did. At the drums sat a frail looking young man with white blonde hair that Bruce immediately identified as Graeme. Graeme, who had gone back to England and left Jan homeless. Graeme, who had been Jan's former lover.  
Jan was playing a battered old off-brand guitar but even the instrument's poor quality was disguised by Jan's skill. Bruce felt his heart fall to the pit of his stomach as he watched the man he loved coax out the notes , his eyes closed, head tilted to one side, swaying rhythmically and as the tempo picked up he began to dance across the stage as a man possessed.  
Bruce felt his throat close up, he felt as though he had been kicked in the gut. What was Jan doing here? Where the hell had Graeme reappeared from? How could Jan have forgotten he was supposed to meet Bruce at Pete's?  
Just then Jan began to work the whammy bar and he bucked his hips into the guitar, his expression showing he was completely lost in the music. Bruce turned abruptly, bumping into someone and not giving a fuck. He had to get out of there.  
It was raining lightly when Bruce got back outside but he only noticed in passing. He walked, not paying any attention to the direction he was going, not really looking up at all, just watching his wet sneakers slosh along the sidewalk, one in front of the other, his head held low and his hands in his pockets. His mind was whirling to get a grasp on the events of the evening. Jan stood him up, Jan was somehow playing with a band, and somehow Graeme was back. Or had he ever left? Maybe Jan had been sleeping in the park because he and Graeme had just had an argument and Graeme had never left California at all. Maybe.....maybe he and Jan had been lovers all along and hadn't broken up years before as Jan told him they had. Bruce couldn't tell if his face was wet from the rain or if he was crying. It had been years since he had really cried, but now he felt like the lost homeless fourteen year old boy again who had run away from being shuffled between distant relatives. He felt completely alone.

 

He was exhausted. He worked an eight hour day then attended a three hour class, now it was after midnight and when he finally looked up, Bruce had no idea where he was. There was a bar down the block and he went in, slumping on a stool and dripping on the hardwood floor. The look on his face must have warned everyone to leave him alone because no one spoke to him, the bartender brought him the beer he indicated and took his money and kept on taking it until the money was gone and Bruce was drunk. Not as drunk as he wanted to be, not drunk enough to stop thinking about Jan, but drunk enough to find the nearest protected doorway after leaving the bar, curling up in a ball, and falling into a fitful sleep.

He woke up to gray daylight and the sound of a group of children laughing as they ran past the doorway toward a school Bruce could make out a block away. He sat up, groaning, his body stiff and aching and still soaked to the skin. He knew he had to go back home and get some dry clothes. He was supposed to be at work in an hour but it was the last thing he felt like doing. He dreaded going back to the room, but maybe Jan would have already gone to work. Maybe....maybe Jan had never come home at all. Maybe he never would. Bruce didn't know what to think and on top of his pounding headache his head started to spin again, puzzling over what on earth had happened the night before.

After walking for half an hour things began to look familiar and an hour later Bruce found himself trudging up the stairs to his room, his heart heavier with each step. The steps were covered with a fine sheen if ice as the temperature dropped quite low overnight and Bruce half-wished he would slip and fall, but of course he didn't. Taking a deep breath, he quietly turned the doorknob, but he wasn't quiet enough.  
Jan had been lying on the couch, still fully clothed, facing the door and definitely not asleep. As soon as he saw Bruce he jumped up and ran over to him, grasping his shoulders.  
"Bruce! God, where have you been? What happened to you? I was worried out of my mind!"  
Bruce braced himself against the touch of Jan's hands and looked away from the gray eyes before he broke down.  
"Shouldn't you be at work?" Bruce didn't reply to Jan's questions and attempted to walk past him.  
"At work!?" Jan was incredulous. "You were missing all night and you think I would have gone to work like nothing was wrong?! Bruce," the fingers tightened on Bruce's shoulders, effectively preventing him from walking away, "what the hell happened? When I got to Pete's Paul said you'd left an hour before."  
Bruce raised his eyes tiredly, finally meeting Jan's and inwardly cringing at the concern he saw there. "You finally made it to Pete's, then?"  
Jan let go then, his voice lowering but his eyes never leaving Bruce's. "I.....I know I was late, I'm sorry...."  
Bruce held up his hand, palm outward. He went to his basket of clean clothes fresh from the laundry, grabbing a shirt and jeans at random, and retreating into the bathroom, closing the door with a solid click against Jan's attempted explanation and locking it. He leaned back against the door and ran his hand across his face. He had thick stubble, he was a man who usually had to shave twice a day, and he was chilled to the bone. He started the shower and began to undress.  
The doorknob rattled. "Bruce?" The door was thin enough Bruce fancied he could hear Jan breathing. "Bruce, you locked the door?" The knob rattled harder. "Bruce, let me in! Talk to me!"  
Bruce stepped under the shower, the water was almost too hot for comfort but he welcomed it. He felt himself gradually warm up but his heart still felt icy cold. When he finished Jan must have heard the water shut off because he tried the knob again, gently this time.  
"Bruce..., please?" It sounded as though Jan was near tears and as Bruce started to shave he found he was crying too. He shaved slowly, trying to give himself time to gain his composure. He couldn't. Dressed and shaved, Bruce knew he couldn't stay in the bathroom all day. He unlocked the door and opened it to find Jan standing not two feet away, his face a mask of misery, eyes glittering with unshed tears. He didn't say anything, he raised his hand as though to reach for Bruce but let it drop when he saw Bruce had been crying as well.  
"Bruce......tell me what's happening? Please?" His voice broke and he turned away, going to sit on the couch and putting both hands over his face. "Are you angry because I was late getting to Pete's? I'm sorry, but ....."  
Bruce broke in. "I know, something came up, right?"  
Jan lowered his hands and looked at Bruce in confusion. "Yes, but ..........."  
Bruce felt his hurt and confusion begin to coalesce into anger. He was at a loss with the pain and doubts he was feeling but anger was so much easier for him, it was something he could understand. Something he knew how to deal with. He want over and sat, not next to Jan on the couch but on a kitchen chair he pulled up in front of Jan.  
"All right, let me hear your side of it. Because I know what I saw at the Upfront Club last night."  
Jan's eyes widened. "You were there? But Bruce, why didn't you...."  
Once again Bruce cut him off. "I had no desire to interrupt your fun. Or to come between you and Graeme."  
Jan was getting desperate to explain. "Bruce, that's just it! I was heading to Pete's and saw Graeme going into the side door of The Upfront Club with a few of our old mates from Newcastle!"  
"And you all had a big, happy reunion!" Bruce was dripping with sarcasm. "So naturally you grabbed a guitar and joined their band and now you're going to head back to England to be a rock star!"  
"Goddamn it Bruce!" Jan was getting angry. He was slow to boil, Bruce had only ever seen him angry during the fight at Pete's that night, but he was getting angry now. He sat forward until he was looking straight into Bruce's face. "Yes, we had a reunion. Graeme saw me before I saw him, he called out to me. I hadn't seen some of those blokes in years, they were the guys we were trying to start a band with in England. And yes, they asked me to join with them for a few numbers. We had a couple beers, then I went to meet you at Pete's. For some ridiculous reason, I thought you would understand why I was late!" Jan slapped his hands angrily on his knees and stood up, beginning to pace the room. "Now, you tell me why the hell you seemingly don't understand, and why you left before I even got there. Not to mention why you saw me playing with the guys and didn't even come forward!"

Bruce suddenly realized how his actions must have felt to Jan, and he was contrite. But he was still hurt and angry. Strangely enough, though, he could only think of one thing to say. "Where did you get the guitar?"

Jan looked blank for a second. "The one I was playing? Mal loaned it to me."

Bruce had no idea who Mal was and didn't especially care. He stood, too, but rather than pace with Jan he went to his basket of laundry and busied himself sorting it, trying to give himself time to think. He was still upset, but he couldn't understand why. Then it hit him. Graeme. He turned.  
"So why the hell is Graeme back in Frisco? Or......didn't he ever leave?"

"He reformed White Spirit, they managed to book a few clubs here.....wait a minute!" Jan looked both confused and hurt, he stopped walking and faced Bruce. "What do you mean 'didn't he ever leave'?" Jan walked over and sat on the bed next to where Bruce was sorting. "Are you insinuating I lied to you, that he didn't go back home at all?"  
Bruce abandoned the pretense of sorting laundry and faced Jan. "That thought crossed my mind."  
Jan looked completely flummoxed. "What you are really saying," and the misery in his voice tore at Bruce's heart, "is that you don't trust me."  
Bruce couldn't find his voice to reply, but his silence spoke volumes.  
"Then," Jan was obviously distressed now, his voice breaking, "what are you going to say when I tell you they asked me to join the band?"  
Bruce didn't answer. In the back of his mind, this possibility had already occurred to him and he had pushed it aside. He knew how selfish he was being, he knew how talented Jan was, and he knew how much music meant to him. But he couldn't bear the thought of Jan working so closely with Graeme.  
Jan let he silence drag on, waiting to see how Bruce would react, but after a minute Bruce went back to sorting his clothes, still not speaking.  
"Aren't you late for work, Jan?" Bruce finally said.  
Jan shook his head, but Bruce wasn't looking. When he did look at him Bruce could see that he didn't answer because he was crying.  
"I called Barry and told him I wouldn't be in. I may have to quit the job anyway, Bruce. I accepted the offer to join the band." Jan finally whispered. "I.......I hoped you would be happy for me."  
Bruce wanted to be, he really did. But all he could see in his mind was Jan with Graeme.  
"I have to go to work." Bruce finally said. He wasn't happy with how utterly miserable his voice sounded. Before he could say or do anything to make things worse, he grabbed his work shirt and strode to the door.  
"Bruce!"  
He knew he shouldn't, but Bruce looked back.  
"I can....I'll find another place to stay if you can give me a couple of days."  
"Why don't you just stay with Graeme!" Bruce said, and left, slamming the door.  
Immediately Jan was behind him, he heard the door open again. "Bruce....is that it? You don't want me around Graeme because we used to be involved?"  
'Well, duh!' Bruce thought, but he didn't say anything. He heard Jan start down the stairs after him and he glanced back. Jan was barefoot and he slipped a bit on the icy steps, catching himself by the rail. 'Oh, God!' Bruce thought in exasperation. His head was killing him and he was almost certain he was coming down with a cold from being soaking wet all night. He was in no condition mentally or physically to deal with this now. He turned and looked up to where Jan stood hovering at the top of the landing  
"Will you be here when I get off work?"  
Jan simply nodded.  
"We'll talk then. I promise, Jan. We'll talk as soon as I get home."

That was the longest work day Bruce had ever known, even though he was over an hour late showing up. Butch, the garage owner, was a tough-talking former truck driver but he knew and trusted Bruce, and he also suspected that Bruce and his 'roommate' were more than roommates. He didn't approve, but it was none of his business as long as Bruce kept his home life separate from his work, which he did. Today, though, Butch knew something was wrong. Bruce was distracted and was caught staring into space more than once. When asked, Bruce merely said he'd been caught in the rain the night before and thought he was getting sick.  
"Get on home, then!" Butch grumbled at around two in the afternoon. He would never admit it, but he was fond of Bruce, remembering him as the wide-eyed fourteen year old trying to pass himself off as sixteen so he could get the job. Butch had known, but had given him the job anyway, paying him for "odd jobs" so as not to get in trouble for hiring a minor. He had never regretted it.  
Before going upstairs to their room, though, there was something Bruce had to do. He had, indeed, been staring into space most of the day, lost in thought. He had faced some hard facts about himself and came to some very hard decisions. Going into the storeroom, he grabbed the guitar and amp.  
Upstairs, he left the items on the landing and went inside slowly. The room was quiet. The bathroom door was open so Jan wasn't in there. Oh God, had Jan left him? Had he blown the best thing that had ever happened in his life because of his insane insecurities and jealousy?  
"Hey." Jan's soft voice came from behind him. He whirled, startled. Jan had been standing at the end of the kitchen counter hidden by the opened door, and now he stepped out in front of Bruce. He brought his hand around from behind his back and held out something. One long-stemmed rose, such a dark red it was almost maroon.  
"I'm sorry, Brucie." Jan's voice was still soft and quiet, his eyes downcast. "I should have called Pete's from the club to let you know where I was and I should have talked with you before I agreed to join the band. I was wrong, and I never meant to hurt you."  
He raised his eyes then, they were glistening with tears and Bruce felt every shred of his anger melt. He reached out and not only took the rose, but took Jan's hand.  
"I'm sorry too, Jan." He sounded as choked up as he felt and pulled the other man into his arms.  
Without hesitation, Jan stepped into them and closed his own arms around Bruce, burying his face in his long brown hair. "I love you, Bruce. I won't join the band, I don't want to do anything that will upset you."  
Bruce drew back just enough to look into Jan's eyes. He softly pressed a kiss to each cheek, then stepped back outside, bringing in the guitar and amp, laying them by the wall as he closed the door.  
"Merry early Christmas, Jan."  
Jan just stared in seeming disbelief, so Bruce lay the guitar case flat on the floor and opened it, lifting out the Fender and putting it in Jan's hands.  
Jan looked at the guitar, turning it over in his hands, thumbing the strings absently, then he raised his eyes to Bruce again.  
"But how did you .....?""  
Bruce grinned. "I bought it last week to give you for Christmas. But given everything that's happened .....well, a couple of weeks early won't hurt, will it? Music is your passion and I'll never keep from it"  
Jan lay the Strat back in its case and stepped back into Bruce's arms, kissing him softly. "Thank you, Brucie. Thank you so much! But you're wrong. I love playing music, true, but you are my passion. "  
Bruce couldn't reply to that, he felt as though his breath was literally taken away.  
The two went over to the couch and Jan plugged in the amp, hooking up to it and trying a few riffs. Bruce watched, loving the look that came across Jan's face the second the first note sounded. Jan opened his eyes and smiled, and Bruce knew he had to try to make amends for how he had acted that morning.  
"I.....I want to apologize, Jan. I know I should trust you, and I know I can trust you. It's....it's just hard for me, you know? " It was extremely hard for Bruce to talk this way, and Jan sensed that. He lay the guitar aside and slid up close to Bruce, cupping his face in his palm and kissing his cheek.  
"I think I understand. You don't talk much about what it was like for you growing up, but I know enough to know it wasn't easy for you. That the people you should have been able to rely on let you down time and time again. Bruce," he gave him another soft kiss, this time at the corner of his mouth, "I'm not going to let you down. I'm not interested in Graeme or anyone else. And he is not interested in me either, in fact he's in a relationship with the bassist. I want you to be a part of everything in my life and that includes the band. We have gigs lined up for the next two months between here and L.A. and they're on Friday and Saturday nights. If you can study for your class in the van, would you come with us?"  
Bruce grinned, returning Jan's kiss with gusto. "You bet your gorgeous ass I will!"

 

********************************************* The End **************************************************************

**Author's Note:**

> One Hundred Percent Fiction


End file.
